


Never Time Enough

by rngrdead



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 23:12:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 59,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2043846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rngrdead/pseuds/rngrdead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: Xander comes back from the past with first hand experience of the Scourge of Europe, but the past has been rewritten. How and with what consequences is the question.</p><p>Part 1 50ftqueenie on Bloodclaim LJ … then rngrdead – Ch 2 and beyond</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Time Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Note From 50ftqueenie: This can stand on its own as a ficlet, but honestly I know there's more to this story. Eventually I might revisit and do my own version
> 
> Disclaimer: Characters are the concept of the wonderful Joss and Co. Don’t make money from the writing etc etc.

PART 1

Xander stepped out of the portal and looked around the room. The lights held a surprising fascination for him. He'd spent a little under three years in the past without a single electric light, or radio, or Twinkie. It was like culture shock to see the girls wearing less than a metric ton of fabric, or hear the low mellow listening station Giles played softly in the store during business hours. The biggest change was Spike himself. 

Xander had spent more than two years with a softer Spike, one with playful curls and a shy smile. He rubbed the mark on his neck nervously, without thinking, and his knees nearly gave out when he heard the vampire groan too softly for the others to hear. 

Spike was now glaring at Xander suspiciously. With as much force of will as he could manage, Xander opened wide innocent eyes to look back at his mate, even if the vampire didn't recognize that fact yet. Once he did, Xander was certain he'd break the claim, damn the consequences to either of them, not that Xander blamed him. When push had come to shove his brilliant plan had obviously failed spectacularly. 

He handed the book to Giles, and then tried to remain calm while the girls fussed over him. They all wanted details. He just wanted to find a quiet place to cry.

"Oye, Red, Glinda, you two gonna undo the memory mojo or what?" Spike asked. His tone was belligerent to the casual observer, but Xander could hear the underlying tension and fear in his voice. Wil hated magic thanks to Dru's lunatic attempts at it. His time on the Hellmouth, and as a sort of Scooby had probably only made him even more opposed, thanks to Willow's magical blunderings. 

Tara dropped a blood red crystal onto the table and then calmly pulled a hammer from Xander's tool box and smashed it. A red haze fell across Spike's eyes for a second or two then disappeared. The remaining shards of crystal were now clear quartz. Tara calmly swept the pieces up and poured them into a small jar which she tucked away in her bag.

Spike stood stock still for a minute or two, then his hand slowly crept up his body, until he was touching a spot on his shoulder. He held a look of wonder in his eyes for all of five seconds, then it seeped into pure rage and he hauled off and punched Xander before turning and storming out of the Magic Box and into the night.

The girls were in a righteous tizzy pulling Xander to his feet and checking him over. He let them, his mind swirling in misery and a sense of horrible loss. Buffy suddenly went silent and Xander knew what was coming as surely as he knew his own name.

"His chip must have stopped working." She said quietly.

Xander would almost swear she sounded sad about it. He'd fully expected a raring to go 'slay'em if you got'em' Buffy on his hands, and he felt even worse for thinking so poorly of his friend. She looked infinitely sad, but determined and turned towards the door. She froze, however, when Xander spoke.

"The chip isn't malfunctioning, Buffy. I'm not completely human anymore."

She whirled on him, stake at the ready. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I'm not a full blooded human. I haven't been for two years, my time."

"So wh-what are y-y-ou?" Tara asked.

"I am Alexander Harris, Consort and Mate to William the Bloody, Childe of Drusilla. I guess you could say I got hitched while I was 'away'." He pulled his collar open to show the silvery claim scar. 

"What does that mean? Giles what does he mean? Why does that make you not human? Does that mean anyone who survives a bite isn't human?"

"No, Buffy, there's more of a ritual to it than just biting. A little spell, sharing of the blood, and a bit of the wild and nasty. Then you're bonded."

"That's not the entire of it, is it Xander?" Giles said quietly. "You left out the part about both parties needing to truly be in love. Otherwise the vampire in question simply gains a rather obedient minion."

"Yeah there is that part. Not really relevant here, G-man. So very not a minion. I might smell like the ass end of an onion what with the time between hot baths while on the road, but definitely not a minion."

"Funny how Spike doesn't seem to be sharing your intense love at the moment? You know what with the punching and the leaving." Giles said quietly.

"Yeah well you try finding out you're basically married to someone you can't stand, for the second time I might add, and see how well you take it." Xander said forcefully. "He has every right to be pissed at me. I made a promise and I didn't keep it. I tried, but my general loserness apparently strikes again. Only this time it's Wil who got to pay for it."

"Me?" Willow squeaked.

"No, sorry, Spike. He didn't really go by that back then, so I called him Wil." He knew he wouldn't be able to hold back tears any longer. "Look, guys, I love you all, and I really missed you, but I need time right now to deal, ok? I gotta go."

Before anyone could argue, he was out the door and gone. He wandered the streets until he came to the nearest cemetery. He walked along until he found a small stone bench. He sat down and looked up at the stars, trying to organize his jumbled thoughts. Instead, he let the tears fall and thought of his Wil, while he cursed his own incompetence and Dru's interference.  
............

 

Context: Xander was taken around half way through Season 4 when Spike was chipped and living in the basement. The time spent in the past correlates directly with the present. Spike did go and get his soul, however, writer’s license dictates that the First is not yet on the scene has had to shift some things including the arrival of the First (later).

PART 2 

The sky was hazy above him, stars a little obscured by the emissions of arguably the world's most smog plagued city, Los Angeles. And didn’t they have that last bit wrong considering London’s ‘pea soupers’, the combination of fog and industrial revolution coal gas emissions leaving street lights vague balls of light – let alone spotting a star. 

They had seen stars on their travels though… Oh how they had seen stars! It mattered little what the circumstance, his Wil always seemed to be able to find the romance, the excitement, the beauty that was life, or unlife, as the case may be.

They had been lying in a quiet, post-coital embrace when a terrifying explosion tore them apart. He awoke on the floor of the Magic Box – a place apparently now owned by an *ex* librarian Giles and Xander’s former squeeze, the *ex* vengeance demon Anya. 

Initially unable to see, he initially thought himself still in London as some of the smells were familiar, lighting dim and books lined the walls, but alas it was not the case. 

Much as he had yearned to return to Sunnydale in the early days of his time in the Aurelian household, it was certainly *not* the case now. But when Drusilla decided she wanted ‘her Spike’ back, she knew killing the Mate would result in Spike dusting also, so found an alternative. And anyone dubbing her as deranged or incapable needed to rethink right there. Drusilla knew *exactly* what she wanted to do, and by and large got what she wanted.

 

Xander ached physically as well as emotionally – and could only imagine how poor Wil was feeling, had felt, did feel… it was all so confusing… He knew that sitting against a headstone in a Sunnydale cemetery late at night was not the smartest idea, but he really could not bring himself to care.

Only minutes later he felt the prickle and knew he was being circled by several fledglings, knowing from their smell and weak signal that they were newly risen and sired by minions not masters. Their sires were no doubt too limited to look after their creations, making them cannon fodder for the Slayer and useful to no one. He stood and let his training take over counting five (or perhaps six?) dusted out of kindness. He didn’t even have too look for the ones coming up behind him, their stealth all that of a five year old stealing from the cookie jar. 

Finally he felt the presence of another, not a vampire, a Krathor demon. They would not normally bother vampires, but humans were a different matter, Xander was not quite either so fair game, something Xander realized a little too late. Swept up with powerful arm, he was thrown against a headstone hard, and habits of nearly three years kicked in, his Consort/Mate link firing at the same time as he counter attacked.

Spike felt the call at a visceral level. There was no question of him having to responding – he had not felt anything so strong since… him, then… so long ago…

Despite the animal blood compromising his speed and strength, he arrived in time to see Xander using two curved silver knives as though a part of his own anatomy. Elegant arcs, amazing speed and brilliant parries and counter attacks soon found the demon with no working tendons in its legs and missing several of its talons. The strikes were strategic, however, not aimed to kill, merely deter and then (when that did not work) disable. Spike remembered the first time they had trained with the knives, Xander insisting that he needed ‘something to fight with’!

Xander sensed him… Yearned for him… Grieved with him… But as he raised his chocolate brown gaze to meet crystal blue and the injured, lumbering figure of the Krathor moved off, Xander knew. Spike had endured a hundred plus years after losing first his Mate, then his Angelus… and had been compelled to look after Drusilla alone as a direct result of both, struggling to survive, doting on her, loving her as her carer more than her Childe. And just before Xander had been flung back in time ‘dumped’ by his love of over a hundred years, denied by the vampire who Sired him only to become crippled by an artificial chip. 

After his last nearly three years with Wil, Xander knew it for what it was, the cruelest of muzzles. Not only did it cage the demon, it starved it, took away its ability to operate in its own society, and left the being it inhabited so vulnerable, desperate and frightened, that both beast and man fell into depression and despair.

They stood staring at each other for a long moment before Spike became visibly upset mumbled a choked, “I can’t… not again… I… ” then turned and disappeared into the night.

Xander sat back down pulling his knees tight to his chest and resting his chin on the bony platform created. He would have to face Willow again sometime soon – if only to fill in the gaps of what had happened in his absence of thirty three months. But for now it was his time to regroup. His last joyous joining with his Mate Wil had only been, for him, last night just before… a tear escaped and he hugged his knees tighter as he gave in to shock  
and grief. 

 

It had been five months since Spike’s chipping and he had been so very depressed of late – despite discovering his ability to hurt demons. Xander was sick of playing host to the undead bleached wonder, but still did not trust him alone, with or without restraints. So, on that warm spring evening, the then totally human Xander had ushered Spike to Giles’ apartment for some ‘vampire minding’ with the intention of the Xanman meeting up with Willow and new friend Tara for a night at the Bronze.

As Xander tied the last of the knots in the ropes fastening Spike’s legs to the chair, a flash of white stopped him in his tracks. He fell against Spike’s leg for a moment took two deep breaths, and assuming it had passed continued with his task, only to have a blinding pain flash simultaneously through his chest and head. He almost cried out before slumping forward and passing out. 

To the observers, Giles (who was returning from the kitchen with a cup of tea, a cocoa and a mug of blood) and Spike, Xander didn’t look in pain exactly, rather he began to convulse and glow so brightly that his form became painful to look at then, after a final flash and scream from the boy, he was gone, the ground where he had been, left scorched and smoldering a little.

Xander had come to kneeling in a foul smelling puddle on cold bluestone cobbles with his head on a pile of rubbish that reeked of old urine and rotting fish. He tried to stand, but was apparently unable to command his own limbs as yet. He wondered what someone had put in his drink at the Bronze, because the entire evening seemed to be a blank, and now with the alleyway… although the cobbles were a strange addition… He was almost ready to go into full denial mode and simply attempt to crawl home when he heard a delighted little girl squeal, and a slow clapping accompanied by a thick Irish brogue, “Well, well, seems you have found your boy there a bit ‘v a playmate. Either that or dinner, or both… Well c’mon Willi…am pick up y’r ‘prize’ and let’s be off – t’will be light soon enough, and I fancy I have some business with my dark plumb here.”

Xander had just enough time to think “Angelus!” before he was heaved apparently effortlessly over an all too thin shoulder and his world went black.

…………………………

Xander rose reluctantly. He could feel the dawn approaching, hear the birds heralding the sun even before the merest hint of light in the east. He really did belong in the dark now and wondered how Willow would react to his need for blackout blinds and genuine love of reading by candlelight.

He had hoped to sneak into the house unseen, but he had no key and was compelled to ring the doorbell, appallingly loud at 5.15am.

Willow must have been sleeping on the couch, as the door was opened within seconds and a sleepy Tara joined her partner as the exhausted, cold Xander stepped across the threshold of a house he had known since early childhood. Yet now it felt different. 

The witches’ signatures screamed magic – especially Tara, who’s marker was *not* human… and he knew Spike was in the building, the place reeked of his mate! 

Before Willow even had the chance to explain the accommodation arrangements Xander said, “Spike is here.”

“Yeah well… umm… after we lost you… umm… Oh Xan! He was so… Something happened. He was… he was… and then with… Oh Xan… we’ve missed you!”

The last statement almost undid him… but he had been through worse, or at least that’s what he thought.

He leveled his most compelling gaze on an old friend and simply said, “What. Happened. While I was away?”

At that moment, in Willow’s basement, a blonde vampire convulsed in his sleep, began to shed bloody tears and dreamt of a lover lost, all those years ago…  
Part 3

He woke again, wrists and ankles bound fast, apparently shackled to a steel ring fixed to a wall. The only light entering the room was courtesy of the base of the door – and that only just enough to see several other humans secured in a similar fashion to himself, some moaning, others like himself only just regaining consciousness, and yet another group of bodies in the corner obviously no longer in pain. 

Twice since he came to, one of his fellow prisoners was released from their shackles and taken away only to have their lifeless corpse returned to the growing pile some few hours later. Xander was not sure how many hours or days had passed before rough hands grabbed him. He struggled a little the net result of which was a short sharp blow to the head and blessed black.

He came to arms and legs still chained but now hogtied rather than fixed to a single point. He was on his front but could just make out the date on front page of ‘The Times’ newspaper neatly stuffed in the front of the basket of wood ready to be used to start the parlor fire – January 15, 1891. 

His arms and legs screamed their protest, though he was beyond screaming, the large chunk of wood fastened bit and bridle style not only gagging him, but making breathing a strain and, when he struggled, causing a constant stream of drool to drip down his chin, joining his tears on the way. He tried to focus. It was definitely Angelus in the building, the large hands tangling in the human’s hair, wrenching Xander’s head up and forcing his bound body into an impossible position. He was staring at the vampire’s yellow tinged eyes, though the face was still in human guise. Angelus sported a fashionably thin moustache and trim beard, and dropped him after giving the captive a confident, deadly smirk.

“What say you my sweet death?? C’mon eat… This one is well fed for street vermin – and his strange attire spells foreigner… what say you precious... stay for a time? We are only just returned, surely the Master…”

Xander could just make out the annoyed act of a petite blonde, momentarily distracted by the thought that Anya would never forgive him for standing her up at the Bronze tonight – or last night… or the night before…

“The Master and I have a *special* relationship… Surely you of all people must understand that? Besides, I’ve put up with the ramblings of your deranged Childe for long enough. Typical male – takes the pretty boy away to fool with while I’m left to uphold our position in London *and* try to babysit your lunatic.”

“You told me to!… I would never…!”

“Angelus! Don’t look so shocked! I approve that you had him to service you, after all Ivanova and Tiernov have quite the talent for the orgy of old… And darling, it was time he was taken in hand. A Childe must be schooled in the pleasuring of the Sire and that stupid girl of yours was hardly the one… besides…I didn’t see you complaining about having to give the lessons…” 

Darla sidled up to her boy, teasing him before she pulled away swept around the room, collecting purse, affixing hat, and adding an elegant ladies’ cape with fur ruffle to her attire. “Now - cheer up darling, the devil knows the boy's insane Sire is incapable of finding satisfaction with any but you, though I confess after this last month, I am surprised you haven’t let her dust before now. No matter, your duty is to me and now you will free me for my Sire as tradition has it, so all is well. I will send word when I am to return.” The blonde Grande Dame of the Scourge of Europe plunged a hat pin into her fashionable head piece, affixing it to the carefully coiffed hair before turning to leave.

She paused on her way to the door and almost as an afterthought slapped Xander’s bound head with the back of her glove, all the while looking pointedly at her childe, “She rambled on while you were away. Claimed she had visions, captured stars and found her pathetic boy toy a friend. Who cares what she thinks – give this one,” she hit Xander again – this time hard, “… to ‘her Willie’, and bed the girl, Angelus, hard, fast and often! Service her and train her, or dust her once and for all. Her constant whining and self pleasuring while you were absent was tedious in the extreme – and quite unbecoming in company!”

Xander made out Angelus in game face, but saw him kiss the hand of his Sire then kneel and bare his neck. Darla bit hard and fast, before pulling away dabbing the sides of her mouth with an embroidered kerchief and added, “Oh, and Angelus? I *do* expect you to have matters in hand when I return. I am sure you would prefer *not* to have to answer to the Master again for some discipline, as I do know how you so hate to ‘bottom’ for him in front of company.” 

With that Darla departed, minions scurrying to open the door carry her last minute needs to the waiting carriage (including a bound young woman – obviously food to go). Angelus had audibly growled his frustration as soon as the Mistress of the house left, smashing an expensive vase, and beating then draining a hapless minion.

Once the dark vampire calmed, Xander quickly established that Angelus and William had just returned from St Petersburg – attending that court at Darla’s insistence! Angelus was livid that he had been given no choice in the most recent turn of events, though did seem pleased to have his ‘dark plum’ close once again.

It was William (or Spike as Xander kept telling himself) that seemed the most hurt by the proceedings, though the human struggled to string the scenario together completely. 

Angelus and the young William had enjoyed their time *together* in all senses of the word. William obviously enamored by the older vampire and visibly put out when he was pushed aside by both Sire and Grandsire with a, “Go find us some food boy, while I see to yer Sire”, as the two older vampires reacquainted themselves. 

Xander felt the bile in the back of his throat begging for release as Angelus all but raped Drusilla within inches of his bound form. The Sunnydale boy seeing the blood as her rear passage was abused, inner thigh bitten and Angelus taking her time and time again. 

Xander had panicked, as Spike… William, passed him to do as instructed by his Grandsire… unsure as to whether he was to be the food or the entertainment or both! Then he really did begin to retch behind his gag horrified by his own self interest – he was apparently safe, for now, while four – or was it five, humans (including two young children) were dragged in by minions and drained by the sated ‘lovers’ and a rather subdued William.

“Now boy, I note you’ve not taken what is yours to enjoy!!! Come, come! This is your Sire’s *gift* - she told us so!...” Xander was shoved hard by a leather boot that smelled of the street, and fell onto his side as his trussed form failed to correct his balance. He knew he was dangerously close to the now lit fire but could barely wriggle more than a few inches before focusing back on the room.

Angelus relaxed back onto the couch, tugged Drusilla around the waist forcing her onto his lap again after their meal and levelled his gaze at William, “Now boy… You’ve had me to yourself for the last month, and proven quite the student. Tis time t' take y’r place again, let your elders enjoy what is theirs by right…” His hand was obviously finding Drusilla’s still wet and willing core, "Oh now, now!! William! No pouting... Let me pleasure my dark princess… and look you! Your Sire’s present seems ripe for the picking… look you, the boy is all a fluster… Have you learned nothin’ on our travels?! Give him a nip then let the minions clean him and put him in yer rooms. And fer the devil’s sake William… take him for sport if naught else, I fer one know ye could still use the practice!”

Xander saw the momentary hurt on the face of his soon to be assailant, then braced himself as the young vampire, most definitely *William* not a hardened Master the pre-chipped Spike, did as instructed, knelt down, bared his fangs and sniffed the human’s neck. Long blonde curls fell across Xander’s face as the vampire appeared to savor the smell of fear coming in waves from the trussed human. Xander wriggled a little but stopped immediately as he heard the growled, “Be still or they will kill you.” The vampire bit and drew but two or three mouthfuls before he stood and ordered the minions to clean up the human ready for ‘dinner and a show’.

Xander was unceremoniously tossed over a large vampire’s shoulder only to be carried outside to a cold tub of water, where his legs were released and wrists attached to an over head hook. He was then washed down by a coarse brush made all the worse by the freezing temperature of the water. 

By the time the final bucket of water was tipped over his head, Xander was shaking uncontrollably, teeth chattering so hard that there was no thought of rebellion, simply a desperate wish to get warm… somehow. 

Unable to support his own weight with legs too cold to move from their semi bent position, he was carried into the house and upstairs – apparently to William’s quarters. There was no care taken as the near frozen human was dumped on the floor in a shivering heap. 

Xander’s head throbbed with the cold, his hands and feet were numb, and all he managed to do was whimper a little as he heard the door click shut and a slight growl come from the direction of the bay window. 

“… What the hell do they think they’re playing at… Stupid idiots! You’re positively blue!”

Xander wasn’t sure if he was being spoken to or there were others in the room so simply remained curled on the floor desperately trying to get his core temperature above hypothermic levels.

He didn’t hear the young vampire move, other than to register a book dropping to the floor, before he felt himself covered in a heavy, rather coarse blanket of some description. He then had his naked form forcibly maneuvered until straight, only to be wrapped tight, mummy style, lifted and draped across a slim lap head resting on a young man’s shoulder, preternaturally strong arms surrounding him as a blazing fire heated the blanket and its contents until toasty. He could not help himself, finally warm and being fed a mug of … sweet milky tea (?!), he gave in to his body’s most primal needs, drank willingly, snuggled a little, then fell asleep in strong arms and to crooning baritone of his…

 

There was no way of telling the hour, and the bed was unfamiliar, as was the body… the male body, spooning him. He momentarily tried to remember if it had been a party or the Bronze or both the night before, nothing would come. A door was opened, heavy curtains were pulled heaved back to reveal the moonlight, and a quiet voice beseeched ‘Master’ to wake. Xander’s state of rest and warmth was now a cause for confusion not comfort, and he wondered vaguely, given he realized he was held tight in the arms of a deadly vampire, if it was now or later that he would die. 

The face that had been nuzzling his neck – admittedly affectionately not the expected threatening fashion – turned toward the intrusion and simply growled “Grrrr out! ‘S early!” The statement was followed by a whimper, a nasty flesh on flesh thump, scrambling noises and a door slamming. Minutes later, he registered the body behind him move a little just before an excruciating sting and pull of blood from his neck, and a ‘morning’ erection rubbing against the soft cleft of his backside preempted his world going black. 

And oh how he yearned for that very feeling as he walked toward the two women seated so calmly in the lounge room of Willow’s house. He was conscious that the sun would be peeping through their curtains any moment and almost flinched as he stilled.

He needed to know the truth of what had happened while he had been… there, At very least whether the Wil he knew, had come to love, still resided in Spike… somewhere.  
Part 4

 

Spike had heard the door click and listened, the memories all but overwhelming him… the yearning driving him from his camp bed to take on physical discomfort, focusing on the stale musty basement smell of discarded household items, his gnawing hunger after almost two days without food, and ache of lying on cold concrete. The quiet dialogue washed into the background as thoughts of Angelus and the years after his Grandsire’s abandonment, Dru’s final rejection, the chip, and all that came after… the time since his return with soul, the madness and Willow’s spell… and now a flood of memories that had apparently been blocked out, memories that at the time made no sense yet now made all the sense in the world… 

He was truly in Hell. He could feel him. Spike’s demon remembered as though the hundred plus years simply melted away… it *screamed* to claim his Mate once more, giving and taking blood and seed, marking again and declaring their partnership to the world. And William the man yearned for his gentle touches, his kind words and comfort, his amorous enthusiasm and easy company.

His boy was back, after so many years… their time together so cruelly cut short yet now the strength of the Mating link was so intense that he was unable to throw off his game face, nor stem the bloodied tears.

He curled up on the hard floor, let the cold permeate his being and bit his own wrist for a little comfort. He wondered if Xander had blocked the link – wondered why he had waited so long, whether he felt Spike’s pain.

……………..

Xander sat quietly, far too quietly, at Willow and Tara’s feet.

He had been away and had changed… so had they. The timeline had changed, forever but none of the ‘players’ in the room understood the implications nor the experiences of the ‘other’.

Surprisingly it was Xander who began with the request for specific answers, and with a forthright attitude that was nothing to do with the young ‘loser’ Xander that had been taken from them some three or so years previously. 

There was a stillness to the Vampire Mate that Tara and particularly Willow noticed. Quiet questions that were not only calm, but calculated, succinct, and non judgemental.

Xander learned in passing that Anya had been present but moved on when Xander departed – apparently ‘involved’ with a string of men in the town though finally accepted back into the vengeance fold and had recently taken up with a rather wealthy demon who specialized in producing musicals for ‘private viewings’.

The returned Scoobie was visibly pleased to learn of the final take down of the Initiative, unsurprised by the stupidity of the whole ‘government conspiracy’ and expressed his disappointment that he had not been a part of it (privately wishing he had been able to reek vengeance on his Wil’s behalf). 

Tara noted his hurt and sadness at the stories of Joyce’s death, Spike’s loyalty and all that ensued with Glory. Xander was horrified to learn of Buffy’s death and the months leading to her supernatural resurrection but completely unsurprised by Spike’s loyalty to Dawn.

Willow could see the tears tracking down Xander’s still youthful face and saw the look of resignation as she ‘skimmed over’ the disastrous liaison between Buffy and Spike that followed. Xander knew why it might have occurred but still grieved for his tender, loyal, William… so very lost, so very giving… and then to seek out the demon trials and a soul!?!!

 

Eventually sitting at Willow’s feet he placed a cheek against Willows slender leg in a position so familiar with his Wil and wished the hand stroking through his rather long curls was a cool male one rather than the small female one that now pulled through the silky mop in an effort to calm and reassure. Willow understood the pain of losing a partner, if Tara had not been returned to her, the consequences would have destroyed… everything. Yet her childhood friend, had gained and lost through no fault of his own, a part of his very being. To be mated in the vampire sense was… she looked at him hard.

Her kind, jovial Xander shaped friend was present… but his pallor – grey; behaviour subdued; appetite – apparently none; and life energy – waning.

But they had left one question unanswered.

Spike’s consciousness returned just as he heard the beloved voice a storey above query, “What happened to Wil in the Magic Box? Why…? I can feel him Willow. Here, now! Just like always… And he is *mine to feel, just as I am his… so… You know what Giles… What did you… *Why* Willow? Just… Oh Ghhh *why*!!?...” 

Willow pulled the man up between them, neither missed the fact that he was still only wearing breaches from the late nineteen hundreds, nor that there was an elegant silver choker around his neck, just above a claiming mark.

Tara knew that the stage was Willow’s. She patted Xander lightly as she rose to make a cup of tea, leaving the two for a private chat

“We lost you… then we had to… oh Sweetie, for *his* sake, we had to!” Willow took the weeping man’s face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “After you disappeared we searched for you… everywhere… for months, we really did!! And Spike was helping us – but there was Adam and the Initiative… and even after that all… well finished, there was really nothing to go on… And Spike was with Giles but then started acting strangely… well more than strange. At first we thought it was the chip but he stopped eating and kept trying to… He was suicidal Xan… He kept saying he couldn’t live without you… that you were… well obviously now you were… but he was desperate and more than a little dangerous… it was like his memories were being altered as we were watching… like he was connected to what was happening in his own past… and it was all changing...”

Xander was openly crying giving no heed to the friend of old. The grief was too bright, the idea that his dear one had endured so long without him… or in an odd way, worse… had his history rewritten progressively, or suddenly as the spell was lifted…

“Oh sweetie, we had to… It was Giles’ idea, the memory block… we just… well we wiped anything to do with you… gone until we could find you… it was the kindest thing… At least that’s what we thought… He was so frantic Xan, hurting himself!” Willow was about to add more but noticed Xander physically jolt and flew to catch her friend as his eyes rolled and Xander curled up in agony, clutching his head, the desperate pain flowing across the link from Spike suddenly so acute that it took his breath away and caused his stomach to rebel. He threw up a tiny amount of bile on her skirt but in too much pain to care, letting his cheek rest in the foul liquid, and giving in to the internal pain.

In the basement Spike was similarly afflicted, feeling the full force of the connection and giving in to his grief and the agony of Xander’s sense of remorse, despite being guiltless of any abandonment or desire to leave his lover all those years ago. 

Despite her friend’s distress, Willow took strength from Tara as her blonde partner returned with some ‘spicy Chai and a bikkie’ (quite the habit since the coven and England apparently). The red head quietly conveyed more details of the happenings of the last couple of years - Dawn’s creation, Spike’s heroism, and the circumstances of Buffy’s death. Buffy had been pulled from her eternal rest, and had taken out her frustrations on Spike, what he thought to be love at first was, truth be known, abuse. Xander knew why. His Wil craved touch and willingly gave all of himself to please a lover even if it meant physical pain.

Tara’s death by the hand of the deranged Warren and the supernatural intervention that returned her to save Willow and the earth from destruction sounded all too fanciful, but when the blonde lifted her shirt to show Xander the enormous scar marking the exit wound of a hollow tipped bullet, he knew it to be true. It was further confirmed when she pulled back her hair to reveal pointed ears and allowed her eyes to turn from their human form to the natural fully blue – the whites completely gone and the pupils now vertical as those of a cat. 

Willow was on the floor next to Xander, arms wrapped around her friend of old by the time they were explaining Tara’s ‘semi human, mostly fae’ status after the Powers’ intervention, and tried to summarize the consequences, including that she and Willow were destined to be together for all time – eventually as magical energy – compelled to assist others as the price for staying together. Tara took Willow’s hand and squeezed it tight as then described Spike’s ‘melt down’ after Buffy and his drastic act… “He was so… confused and hurting… so he went and fought to get it back! He… he got his soul back, Xan.”

The sun was high in the sky when the wiccan’s finally finished updating their newly returned friend on the happenings since he had been away. Xander finally raised himself into a chair opposite the couch apologized weakly to the kind women, then proceeded to stare out the window in silence. What was there to say? 

His life had been so different, admittedly terrifying and confusing at first… but Wil… poor Wil… Xander could feel him hurting even now, kept trying to send love through the link but the pain seemed to overwhelm it. Tara felt the magical ripple first, Willow saw the hurt in her old friend but allowed him his space as he gave in utterly to grief and loss. 

In the basement Spike writhed in pain as his Mate all but screamed for him through the newly awakened link.

Xander was eventually too exhausted to cry any more. Curled in a fetal position on the chair, he hiccupped occasionally, but as the two witches moved to get on with the matters of the day, he managed to whisper, “Oh Gh@# Willow, none of you have *any* idea how strong he is… how intelligent, caring, loving… And I can’t… I can’t live without him Wills!!! And now he’s lived over a hundred years without me… me! His Mated human consort! Willow *please* find a way to fix this… us!!! I love him Willow… I love him so much. Send me back Wills… maybe just… I wish… can’t you send me back?”

Eventually too spent and distressed to move, he gave in to semi slumber and remembered the first few weeks as ‘plaything’ to William the young vampire.

…………………

By the third night as captive ‘bed warmer’ for the young vampire William, Xander woke still shackled and now blindfolded only to feel a pair of large, steely strong cold hands hauling him up and buckling a thick leather collar around his neck. A vicious slap to the backside and grunt from the young William was followed by, “You’ve been remiss boy! If twas but a bed-warmer ya wanted would a bought you a dog… so here! At least now he’s collared. I’d break him in for ye too but that your Sire is quite insatiable.” 

A second incredibly hard smack of Angelus’ hand across Xander’s backside all but drew blood. “There now all tenderized for ye, so… take him like I showed you with that annoying manservant last month… Surely you’ve not forgotten!?”

The answer was subdued, “No Sire, thank you Sire.” After which Xander felt his backside tugged to the edge of the four poster bed, his legs dangling over and backside exposed. He tensed as a set of soft cool fingers began to gently massage his back and down into the slit of his behind. He tensed a little but then realized that William was trying his best to be considerate despite Angelus’ scrutiny.

“Stop you dilly dally and get on with it boy! I quite fancy a show before breakfast.”

Xander felt the sting of a bite on his buttocks, but rather than drinking the crimson flow was allowed to track down the channel dividing his pretty behind. Mere seconds later he grunted around his gag as one two then three fingers repeatedly breached and stretched his virgin pucker.

“Ahh now see there Willie, he’s ripe for it. ‘N don’t forget ta mark ‘im proper afore you finish or you’ll find a minion or three helpin’ themselves to sloppy seconds.”

Months later Xander would appreciate how gentle and considerate William was as a lover, but that first time was so unknown that all he could do was try not to tense up too much, and desperately pretend he was anywhere but on the edge of a vampire’s bed trussed, lubed, and about to be breached.

Angelus was obviously still in the room as William entered the human for the first time, and seemed to be waiting for confirmation that the younger vampire was able to complete his task. 

Eventually a tearful, listless Xander lay on the edge of the bed, neck bitten deeply just above his new collar, backside oozing his vampire Master’s seed, and shoulder blades and hair sticky with a rapidly drying second spending, marking him for all to smell not just see.

It all should have been too terrible to contemplate, but that Will was eventually the one who cleaned Xander, rearranged his limbs and rubbed his now sore behind with sweetly scented oil before putting a small butt plug inside with quiet words of encouragement and the explanation that “It really does help.”

Angelus left them alone and apart from the occasional move to relieve himself in the chamber pot, he had spent virtually the entire first three weeks lying in Spike’s bed. He was bound and blindfolded at first, but eventually just had a lead from his collar to one of the uprights. He hated the butt plug intensely though did acknowledge that it eased William’s way to the point where now the intrusion of a larger undead member was no longer painful – indeed had begun to feel rather wonderful.

The times when he was left alone were the worst. Hours of silence, of nothing to do, of worry; of hearing Dru’s screams as ‘Daddy’ whipped then repeatedly, violently took her; of listening to the muffled cries from the ‘pantry’ downstairs or worse, the thud as yet another dead body was dumped on the floor. 

Xander came to yearn for the company of his blonde ‘owner’. When William was there he was attentive to a fault, read to him from the classics, quoted poetry and informed the brunette of matters of the day as though the human was merely an invalid in need of entertaining, rather than a captive waiting for the next time he was compelled to service his master. And finally, after just over a month in the Aurelian household, he was allowed to follow his master downstairs, the short leash ensuring he walked barely inches behind William as they entered the parlor.  
Part 5

Xander was dressed only in one of Wil’s night shirts and was aware of how cold the house was after being ensconced in a fluffy bed for the past (to his knowledge) five weeks. He was far thinner than when he arrived and felt like the invalid family pet as he struggled to keep close to Wil as he was led down the flight of highly polished wooden stairs, the hallway complete with ornate banister and overly fussy wall paper.

The house was certainly a fine example of upper middle class living in the last decade of the nineteenth century, though Xander noted, in his rather dazed state, that the woman scurried past in a parlor maid’s prim uniform, was very pale and had the distinctive bite mark of a minion on her neck, her status confirmed when she leveled yellow eyes at the young Master William’s plaything, earning a growl from the Aurelian Childe.

In contrast to the vaulted ceilings and open elegance of the entrance hall, the parlor was warm, overly stuffed with furniture and had almost every inch of the wall covered in paintings. The fire was blazing and Angelus seated smoking and reading aloud an exaggerated newspaper account of the latest ‘murder spree in the West End’ whilst having his feet massaged enthusiastically (though a little ineptly) by a rather disheveled looking Drusilla. 

He appeared to pause for dramatic effect then dropped the paper and leaned forward to cup the chin of his dark Childe. “Look you my darlin’, your boy has brought his plaything down to entertain us at last.” 

William seemed at once contrite and not a little tense, “Grandsire, you called for me to attend you before your evening hunt. I merely understood…” Xander was pushed down to kneeling at Spike’s feet but felt so dizzy from blood loss and the walk downstairs that he lost balance a little and ended up leaning against William’s leg. 

At the nervous declaration, Angelus pushed his vampire masseur onto her backside, stood and strode over to his Grandchilde barefoot, large cigar still in hand and tieless shirt untucked. “Yes, I did. I did at that. Your dotty Sire here is startin’ t’ get on me nerves, and I fancied ye may hap’ schooled yer toy in some skills as might serve for an evenin’ o’ interest?”

Xander was already feeling ill, but had come to understand his captor Wil rather well over the last few weeks. There was a fight or flight response building in the well toned slim legs, Xander could feel it, as his leash had become taut. Despite the weeks of ‘new life’ as boy toy keeping ‘young Wil’ distracted, it was Xander of Sunnydale coupled with (what he now realized was) a genuine liking of his blonde protector/owner that interpreted the scene. He did not trust Angelus further than he could throw him, which, even without his current weakness, would be a dismal effort at best. He was in no state to run let alone assist but tried to convey his willingness to do his best for his new keeper nevertheless by squeezing the blonde vampire’s ankle and trying to push up a little.

The standoff was but seconds long, however, as Dru giggled from her position on the floor, crawled over to the kneeling human, sat as if to study him, then scored the midline of his forehead and nose with the razor-sharp nail of her forefinger and licked off the resulting blood.

Xander vaguely wondered if this was to be his end but took strength from William’s touch and remained still. He silently stemmed a shiver as Dru turned with a pout to her Sire, “He’s all a disappointment Daddy. Doesn’t like my girlie parts at all! Blood just singing for our Willie… and poor Daddy, Mummy’s bustle still a flutter for the Master… poor Daddy.” 

Angelus frowned momentarily as Drusilla cocked her head and stared vaguely at the potted parlor palm in the corner before turning to her Sire and changing mood as though a switch had been thrown. “Ooooohhh the stars are so bright tonight, it’s sure to be jam and cream for tea. Miss Edith will be ever so pleased!” Dru clapped gleefully then stood and began to sway, raised her arms above her head and began to chant, sing song fashion, punctuating each strange statement with a hip wiggle. “And. Daddy’s. Going to. Tie me up. All shackles and moss, ‘cause I’ve been ever so good, I’m always so good… And Willie’s got kitty, ‘cause he’s been ever so good, ever so good!” 

Angelus had apparently had enough. The dark Master of the house growled a warning moments before moving with speed not traceable by the human eye and knocking Drusilla out with a single punch. He then flung the unconscious mad vampire unceremoniously onto the chaise lounge in the corner, growling as he made his way to the tray sporting crystal carafe of brandy and matching glasses. “Pay her no mind. I’ll have her restrained later needs be.” 

Xander felt a calming, familiar hand in his hair and without realizing it, responded to the comfort, subtly pushing into it and giving away his true feelings with a slowing heart beat and hint of arousal.

Angelus didn’t miss the change, “You’ve trained your pet well, boy…” The older vampire dropped into game face but made no move toward the human. Xander sensed that his protector was being tested and wracked his brain for some of the lessons from Giles’ books. In the end he dropped his head to the side away from Wil’s leg, exposing his neck and the scabbed mark where William had bitten him at least daily since his arrival. 

William did not move, even when Angelus stood as though to take the offer, but as Xander waited, the surprised blonde vampire was kissed on the cheek and the hapless human ignored. “Oh, I *am* impressed m’ boy. Seems my dark princess was right to find you such a plaything. But tonight I would have your company, ‘tis more than time you and I enjoy a hunt without female encumberances… I fancy sport of the *male* variety.”

Xander must have passed out shortly after, waking briefly to the smells and comfort of William’s bed but also aware that he was alone. He leaned over to the small side table and sat up just enough to lift the beaded linen cover from the water pitcher and pour himself a drink, before collapsing back again and sleeping on.

The next week or so had a similar timetable, though after a few days of better food he was feeling decidedly more energetic. After Angelus approved of the pet, he had taken Wil to a demon friend of his to ‘give the Childe advice regards his human bleeder companion’ and consequently each evening, Xander was presented with a platter near overflowing with a variety of cold meats, pickles, cheese, fresh fruit and bread. Wil would not let him out of bed until it was finished *and* he had washed down the meal with a bottle of increasingly more pink, satisfying, though rather tasteless ‘juice’. 

Unexpectedly his role in the parlor became one of hairdresser to the mad dark ‘princess’. 

He was initially encouraged to brush her long brunette locks as a means of calming her but soon took to braiding the tresses just as he had Willow’s when they were youngsters. And with nothing better to do and no right to speak when in the presence of Wil’s deadly elders, Xander spent increasing lengths of time weaving intricate patterns in the vampire’s hair using flowers, various ribbons and even jewels. Drusilla’s obvious delight was strangely comforting to the captive Scoobie as he saw Wil congratulated on the human’s behavior and reaped the benefit of Wil’s happiness at his Sire’s approval, via loving touches and increasingly more amorous sessions in their shared bed.

But in Xander’s fourth month in the household everything changed. Darla sent word. She was to return within the fortnight.

………………

Xander woke to the realization that someone had covered him with a blanket during the night and that he had missed the smell of Willow’s freshly baked cookies.

He rose rather stiffly, judging it to be around midday by the sun alone. He could feel it now, the ache in his chest that made swallowing hurtful and his hands shake. He knew it was coming but there was no point worrying his friends. Giles probably already knew and the others would find out soon enough if …

He focused on the daylight of Southern California, all too bright and so different to even the summers in England and Europe. He found himself wishing for the grey, the rain, the cold… instead of cheery sunlight and a note on the mantelpiece that read, “Didn’t want 2 wake U. No.s for Scoobies r by phone. Help yourself 2 food etc… T + W home by 6 XXOO P.S. Giles called - back 2 UK Sat.”

Xander stared at the message for a moment too long then registered the smell coming from the kitchen that made his stomach growl – Willow had baked cookies that morning. It should have been familiar, but instead felt like a reminder of things lost.

Wandering into the bright room with its bowl of fruit on the table and cooling rack piled high with chocolate chip treats, he opened the fridge. The act itself felt… worrying. ‘Help yourself’, the note had said, but bags marked ‘beef blood’ in the fridge reminded him… 

He took one, snipped it and found the large red soup mug with the message ‘I like it hot’ on the sink drainer. He emptied the contents into the mug and used a microwave again for the first time in close to three years. The knife he had used to slice open the bag was still in his hand as he reclaimed the now warm mug and found his way to the door of the basement.

The basement reeked of blood, fresh blood, Spike’s. 

Rather than turning on the light, Xander let his changed status emerge and yellow eyes seek out he who was so precious… and now so broken.

What he saw made him positively ill. Spike, his Wil, was on the floor curled in a ball. He had apparently torn through clothing and bitten himself repeatedly, leaving open wounds to bleed out. Xander understood the feeling, the knife in his hand would have done the same had he not been so focused on finding Wil. Now he did use it for the preferred purpose.

He slid down to sitting on the cold floor and lifted his Mate’s head, turning the all too light body until the vampire was lying, head tilted back and in a position where his semi open mouth might drink… then Xander slit his own wrist crosswise.

The vampire coughed a little as the first few drops fell against the back of his throat, then latched on. After several seconds, the vampire’s mate felt the familiar speeding of a heart being starved of the fluid that drove it. Timing was everything and Xander knew from experience that he could supplement his own offering with a far greater volume of (in this case) animal blood dribbled past the wrist and into the waiting mouth. A few days earlier, it would have been Sire’s blood or fresh human that was offered to restore and preserve the blonde.

The groan, pull, and final lapping of the wound was familiar. The silent tears, rocking and comfort purring were rarities – only occurring in their other life when Wil had been most in distress.

Xander gently eased Spike onto the bed again, spooning him and warming him in a way that caused the damaged vampire to cry all the more and accept the offered wrist, not to feed but just suckle as a child might a pacifier. All the while the human whispered phrases of endearment that the poor chipped and ensouled vampire had missed for over a century as he tasted the ambrosia that was his mated human’s blood and recalled a hundred plus years of confused memories. His own mental state since the return of his soul had been confused in the extreme – and of late – since the memory ‘restoration’, it was pushing to levels of contradiction and confusion worthy of the effects of the worst psychedelic drugs of the sixties. 

And so the survivor of Angelus, Darla and Dru, escapee of Nazis and Initiative, killer of two Slayers and lover of one now found himself sobbing shamelessly, desperately, longingly, into the arms of… him. There could be no more exquisite torture. Spike could taste him, smell him, feel his arms and legs and body… but it was all impossible… Xander was… here. Spike gave in to the insanity and finally snuggled and cried himself to sleep. 

Xander held the cool body as his wrist healed and… remembered, his own recall changed by freakish circumstances, and experiences of bygone years.  
Part 6 

The household changed as Darla and entourage swept into their abode. 

Xander was again confined to Wil’s bedroom. Sometimes his bound form was trussed and placed uncomfortably facedown on the bed for hours in case the Grand Dame happened into the room, at other times he was apparently part of the ‘dinner and a show’, there apparently to merely satisfy Wil’s perversion.

After three weeks, Angelus was almost entirely occupied with Darla’s demands apparently the little ‘tit for tat’ extending to a four day torture episode that included binding his nether regions in a way that would have killed any human – as much through the inability to pass water as blood restriction or failure to release. 

Dru came to William’s rooms to sit and sing, take tea with her dolls, and have her hair done. Xander appreciated more and more, just how sweet William could be. The woman was clearly deranged yet he continued to humor her, accompanied her as she sang meaningless ditties which Wil managed to mould into pretty ballads or at least tuneful whimsy to please his Sire. 

Dru sometimes arrived at Wil’s rooms in incoherent distress or bearing bleeding evidence of her Grandsire’s baseless ire. At those times, Angelus was nowhere to be seen and Xander began to feel rather sorry for Wil’s version of his GrandSire, a man inclined to compliment his young relative and be content with an evening of poetry reading or harpsichord; an elder who really seemed to value Wil’s shyly offered opinion of a certain passage of prose, ask his Grandchilde offer his critique of the latest of Angelus sketches (albeit many were rather ‘debauched’ though aesthetically stunning in their detail); or interpret one of the more obscure of Dru’s ramblings. 

It was with sadness that the Sunnydale Xander realized the truth of Liam… aka Angelus… a human not so far from himself, a rather simple country boy with good looks, an athletic prowess… not particularly that successful in love but with a genuine talent for ‘making things’ and a love of fine art, all wasted according to his father. And by the fact of his place, status and year of his birth… unlike Xander at least finding something with the Scoobies, Liam had fallen into the hands of... 'wicked, nasty Grandmama' (as so eloquently put by Drusilla).

Xander thanked whatever deities looked after bound and gagged human playthings for vampires in the late nineteenth century, for the fact that he was lying comfortably on his side facing *away* from Wil and the upset Grandsire.

Angelus had arrived in ‘his Wil’s’ bedchamber some month or so into Darla’s return, and though Sunnydale Xander was so far from a fan of the dark vampire as to name himself cheer leader for the gypsies’ ensoulment squad, Wil’s pleasure human felt genuine sympathy as the dark vampire threw himself on the bed and began toying with Xander’s restraints as he spoke.

“Undo yer boy Wil, no reason for us all t’ suffer… I thank ye fer keepin’ yer own Sire quiet and satisfied. An’ ne’er ye mind… I know ‘tis not a small part t’ do with the boy here. Our Dru… she may be dotty but she has the sight… Just wish the older mistress could look past the little… eccentricities!”

There was affectionate taking of blood and activities of ‘other kinds’ resulting in gentle, chaste kisses as Angelus sighed, “Ahh boy… Would that we could return to St Petersburg more often… But Darla would have you attend her to read [the words emerging as a feral growl] after she beds Dru… And the two will have their hair done one day soon… Apparently Dru’s curls have impressed… and before you ask, we are not to be present – ‘tis just yer boy as is wanted!” 

A now unbound Xander stilled his urge to move but did use his blindfold free sight to note the many bruises, deep scratches and nasty bite marks on the older vampire.

“I’ve missed ye Wil. You *and* yer Sire. But she, Darla, she’s not of a mind t’ be kind… not yet. The Master has filled her head with such…” Xander heard rather than saw the sigh, and registered the change in tone, genuine regret and affection implied, “She will kill yer boy there if she knows ye hold feelin’s. Wil, I’m warn’n ye… She’s… even as vampire she will never consider our disposition fer boys!”

Even though, of late, Xander had seen the quiet side of Angelus, he always interpreted it in the context of a big bullying cousin to Wil. Now he saw more, the confessions of a Master vampire who was acknowledging his own need for affection, his care for his male Grandchilde, and genuine respect for the connection between vampire and captive. And in that context, the next statement was of little surprise.

“I would steal a kiss and a moment of comfort if ye be of a mind Wil… just… but if ye’r nay inclined, I wonder if ye might just lick the…”

Wil moved to his Sire’s aid, first kissing the distressed elder tenderly, then falling into game face and beginning to clean wounds.

Xander was horrified by the sight of the oozing mass of whip marks scoring Angelus’ back and lower legs, and even more distressed by Wil’s tears despite Angeus’ apparent stoicism. The neat shirt and pants that looked so in tact from the front as the dark vampire had entered were in truth, shredded, courtesy of the cruel strokes of what had obviously been wet ‘cat o’ nine tails’. 

The now free, human captive was strangely compelled to assist in the licking process as the, by reputation, most terrifying vampire in Europe ‘ever’ stretched out on the bed and gave in to pained sighs as much emotional as it physical given who had inflicted the wounds. His Sire, Darla, had disapproved, of what, no one other than the two involved would ever know. Wil knowing that all Angelus need do was question her actions or argue a point for a beating to ensue – particularly so soon after returning from the Master.

Dru joined them some time later and proceeded to ‘Lick Daddy!’ with a glee that was at once inappropriate and somehow sadly… still needed. Her own scratch marks and self harm were easily attended to afterwards by Xander not Wil, the younger vampire barely able to stand after being near drained by a needy Grandsire. 

Xander was aware that Wil had never been in favor, Darla labeling her mad grandchilde’s plaything as ‘nancy boy’, ‘bottoming poet’, and ‘family embarrassment’. The idea that Xander would even survive her return was now linked directly to Darla’s obsession with vampire Lore – not that she had imparted much of it to her offspring as her level of literacy was limited at best, but Wil was a scholar, and Angelus, had seen the advantages of long hours of reading – particularly when power games were afoot.

After the whipping incident, and three nights of avoiding Darla later, Wil approached Angelus with a request. In order to keep his pet human safe by mating him – turning would require the Grand Dame’s permission and Wil none too keen on that option after the disaster with his mother. Mating was possible without Darla’s knowledge or approval and preserved the nature of the human. Informing Darla would normally have been a courtesy but Wil and Angelus knew – would likely result in Xander’s immediate death.

Angelus had seen the contentment and the growth of the young fledge and appreciated the less needy, more mature, William – a boy who no longer had an obsessive ‘love’ for his Sire, nor tried to gain Angelus’ attention constantly.

The older vampire made the arrangements and Wil put the proposal to Xander. 

They were lying wrapped around each other after a late afternoon wakeup session of hour long slow, lovemaking. “I have asked Grandsire permission to mate you and he agreed. But your feelings need to be true Xan… I love you… and want to keep you safe… for me… for all time… but if you feel… 

He was to be more than the ‘bottom boy’, indeed he was loved enough that his ‘owner’ asked his permission to claim him... forever. 

They waited for Darla to depart for the evening – she and Angelus apparently guests at some society do that involved ‘moving pictures and a deliciously blacked out room’.  
Dru was unusually quiet during the drive, but had brought Miss Edith with her – never a good sign if sanity was a requirement at their destination. 

It was but a short carriage ride from their home to the L’Eriatte elder’s home in lower Soho. The pale demon, come mage, seemed to be a little too well informed of their connection and presided over the ritual with enthusiasm before happily taking his payment of a ‘rotund human’ (former disgraced member of the House of Representatives and responsible for a string of ‘dodgy dealings’ including with the L’Eriatte family) at the end of proceedings.

Xander was well used to being taken by Wil – indeed had come to not merely welcome it, but yearn for it. But this time, in the presence of the mage, as he opened himself and was entered and bitten while the ritual words were chanted, everything changed. Now to be with his Wil would literally be his life’s primary need – just as taking blood from his Master Vampire was to be a daily necessity. He was neither thrall nor Childe – he was something far more rare – an entity he had only read about twice in Giles’ books at home, a Mate. He found it somewhat surprising that after only a few short months he bore no regrets for the change, rather he felt treasured, loved, he was in every way the mated consort of an ancient vampire line, the first in three hundred years.

Xander felt an internal shift continue on the way back to their lair. He could *feel* his Master, all but taste him, and his joy could not even be tempered by Drusilla’s (apparently celebratory yet still inappropriate) wanton act of self pleasuring in the carriage as she raised her skirts, threw her legs wide and did with Ms Edith something the doll simply was not designed for.

Their absence, they thought, would go unnoticed. Sadly, one step into their home saw them at the mercy of Darla at her deadly best, though for once Dru’s over excited insane ramblings paid dividends. Happily the ‘dark plumb’, in all her deranged wisdom, had dressed Xander in her own over-dress and bonnet, and insisted that William carry the now rather soggy Ms Edith to ‘see the Queen’ as she danced and twirled into the hall and the three made their way past the incensed blonde . 

Darla could sense an odd difference in the magical fabric, but having no idea where the three had been hunting, gave up any notion of trying to assess the situation, distracted completely by Dru’s wild ramblings as she attempted to make the hat stand dance a merry jig for the simple reason that it was apparently, “The stars are singing a merry tune Mummy.” then began her own tuneless rendition and continued the dance.

Xander was pushed up the stairs and felt the pang of hurt flowing from Wil as they passed the door of the master bedroom. A whip had been used again. The previously proud figure hung unconscious from the ceiling. His head was down, legs fixed apart by a steel bar, and tortured nether regions tied fast with ribbons like some sort of devil’s flower arrangement.

Angelus might well have disciplined Wil during Xander’s time in the house, but the Sunnydale Scoobie knew the vampire was *not* the mean, mad Angelus he had met in Sunnydale. The human had seen the tough love; the occasional jock-style, slap on the back when Wil did something worthy of approval; and the genuine brotherly connection though they were vastly different characters. Angelus loved his life as killer, loved his power to destroy utterly and completely. So different to his GrandChilde Wil, Angelus adored the artistry and had a near obsession with complex schemes that inflicted psychological harm, his eye for detail extending even after death, in many cases the tortured body left in macabre complex tableaus for the police and loved ones to misinterpret. 

In contrast, when William hunted, he enjoyed the rush and the swift chase and excitement, sometimes romancing his victims but more often preferring to ‘charm and skim’ when in company (a technique frowned upon by Angelus and Darla) or taking to the docks or lower class areas, choosing those with little to lose. William loved his unlife for the fun and freedom of vampire existence after his middle class upbringing, and unlike his studious staid human self, he enjoyed the spontaneity and breaking of rules. 

That all said, he still respected his older relative’s ways, relied on the dark male to guide him when his dotty Sire was incapable (which was almost always), was a slow but determined study, and was extremely wary of the blonde Grande Dame of their household.

Coming up for sunrise, as Wil and Xander engaged in their usual lovemaking Xander finally felt full force of the shift to Mate status. Mid coitus he gave in to instinct and bit Wil hard on the neck drawing mouthful after mouthful of what now tasted like liquid life. Later he would realize that his sight and hearing had also been enhanced. 

 

Dru, Wil and Xander virtually hid upstairs for almost three days until finally ‘she who must be obeyed’ sent for them, formally inviting them ‘to High Tea at five’.

They entered the drawing room, William trying to calm his demon and Xander once again on his tight leash, and this time nude as required by ‘her ladyship’. The mate gave away none of the worry of being discovered as he took great satisfaction in considering that the tall figure of Angelus standing by the fireplace, apparently healed but obviously still subdued, would one day finish off his deadly bitch of a Sire once and for all… and for the benefit of a Slayer.

Wil was tense with worry, but Xander, without effort, sent love and calm back through the so recently established connection. 

Wil fumbled a little as he made an effort to tie Xander’s leash to a ring on the floor. The leather collar had been replaced with silver, and Wil was being careful so the heavy links did not score human skin.

 

……………….

Xander had not meant to sleep, much dream, then wake and recall, only to dream some more… but the events of twenty four hours had taken their toll. He blamed his heightened state on the shift between realms, but his yellow eyes, night vision and desperate yearning for his Mate’s fluids refused being shaken off, just as his overwhelming feelings for the currently wrapped in his arms. 

Spike eventually woke to a visceral sensation of being truly loved and safe for the first time in… As blue eyes blinked and met strange yellow/brown, the damaged vampire was again reduced to desperate tears. It had to be a cruel joke. His mate was holding him after all this time, holding and sending him love and concern and… it had to be his imagination except that when he buried his face into the neck he felt the mark and smelled… it was more than familiar… the bared neck was accepted, not just accepted, reciprocated. 

He coughed a little with the flush of familiar blood then let his demon loose.

They were one. The time frames may have shifted, the stories altered, but there was no denying the blood. Wil, now Spike, gave in to his demon and as the boy above him, slicked for the purpose, straddling his form and sliding down a shaft apparently turned to steel.

Spike completed, felt the pull from a bite far too long missed and drank of blood from a Mate who when lost, had seen a grieving Childe all but drive his family distracted as his antics became more and more violent and outrageous.

Angel may have been caught in his own set of tricky circumstances, but a very worried message on Willow’s phone indicated that the ensouled Aurelian Grandsire had also felt the very recent return of the Mate and confirmation of ‘oddness’ in the timeline. 

Oblivious, a sated Wil, aka Spike, slept replete, only vaguely registering the last slow sting of an Initiative chip’s circuits burning out and a baby soft kiss before his returned lover joined him in slumber.

………

It should have been joyful, but it was Giles,… and Willow… and too much light… and his eyes were still… because they were still… 

It had always been so much easier in a vampire household.  
Part 7 

 

Xander gained a whole new level of respect for his school days librarian as Giles (first to through the door) staid Willow with a quiet hand and simply said, “I think our friends have both just woken… perhaps we should give him an opportunity to… oh my word.”

Thankfully Xander’s face was hidden under the covers, as was Spike’s, and though the fluffy tufts of brunette and blonde were obvious from the door, the still sticky results of their reunion remained hidden. Xander fancied he heard Giles pull off his glasses with the intent of cleaning them and could not help but grin into the pillow around slightly altered canines. 

The vampire beside him, his Mate, was purring quietly. *Spike*, his Wil, was barely awake yet still he was purring, and despite the intrusion, Xander wondered how long it had been since that happened.

Spike’s purr abruptly stopped as instinct took over and human heartbeats were heard. He made to move but a quiet hand stopped his progress and the whispered “Shhh Will” left him stilled but needing to try to work out the events of the previous evening.

Xander did his best to shake off any signs of his changes as he sat up, hoping that the shadows at their end of the basement would conceal anything still shifting back.

“Giles, Willow… um… do you think we could have a few minutes… to you know…”

Giles was obviously flustered, “Yes, yes! Well of course, I would have… that is we were concerned… We’ll be upstairs.”

Xander relaxed back onto the pillows with relief as ex-librarian and powerful wiccan made their way back upstairs. He didn’t expect Spike’s next words.

“You are *not* real… You *can’t* be real… Even if you are… I’m unclean… an abomination… I’m sorry… I’m *so* sorry!!! *Please*… There’s a stake… under the bed… *Please* let me join my … gahhh!!” Spike began to tear at his own flesh again, “He was there and we… [sob]… we loved and then I had to… it’s why he left… he was driven away… driven away! Unlovable… always unlovable… even Grandsire and Sire left… unlovable…” Xander attempted to stop the bloody self harm but only succeeded in causing Spike to fall out of bed. Xander pushed out after him and pinned him to the floor until the vampire finally went limp, giving in to strong arms, familiar scents, and the desperate efforts of a Mate to comfort.

………….

Darla’s deadly gaze fell on Xander, “Hmm I see the plaything is still alive. Angelus did you agree to the adornment – surely a leather dog collar would have sufficed…”

“T’was a leftover from a ‘dinner guest’ some weeks ago – that Tory member of the House of Commons… Seems he was quite keen on being ‘collared’ for after dinner activities and brought his own. I thought the silver was more in keeping…” Angelus shrugged and leaned forward as though to caress his Sire’s shoulder in the hope that she would relax a little. Instead she grabbed his wrist with talon like accuracy and pressure, stilling him and drawing blood, then sniffed the air. “Is that so?” 

She turned now yellow eyes on William, “Seems our pathetic poet has been rather spoilt having this one to himself while his elders were otherwise engaged. It’s more than time we taught William some manners and refocus his attention on the household.”

Before anyone could react Darla, was upon Xander biting painfully into his neck with every intention of killing. Xander felt the pull of blood – but not the joyful giving he had become used to of late, rather, the excruciating tug of a lethal bite. But then the teeth were gone, he heard the high pitched roar of an incensed Darla “You’ve *mated*!” Unable to move from his tether and still bleeding, Xander registered furniture smashing, Dru whimpering and Angelus matching Darla’s roar with one of his own and William crashing to the floor unconscious.

He watched in horror as the petit blonde pulled a bull whip from the mantel piece and began to wield it expertly. Leather on flesh could be heard, Dru’s crying increasing as ‘Daddy’ was struck repeatedly. Finally Xander heard a crash from above and his world went black as a large flower arrangement toppled onto the floor. 

He came to tethered facedown but with no support for his head. It was some sort of short iron bench obviously purpose built for torture. His arms were outstretched, legs fastened wide open to the leg posts, strapped tight at knee and ankle. His nether region squashed painfully against the rough edge of the iron table and rear hole completely exposed. 

Lifting his head he could make out Spike hanging facing the wall from chains fastened to the ceiling, Angelus alongside him. Dru was at Angelus’ feet rocking and humming in a totally catatonic fashion. Both male vampires had been stripped of all clothing and were only now ‘coming to’.

Xander shivered but remained silent as he felt an icy hand caress his backside, Darla rounded the table, grabbed his hair and forced his neck up to almost breaking. He stared into the deadly eyes as she spoke around her fangs and twirled a cat-o’-nine-tails complete with obvious metal barbs protruding from the knots in each end.

“Good you’re awake.” She growled and tugged the hair a little harder, “Were you anything but Mated you would not exist – I would have drained you then thrown your remains to the feral dogs of the street by now, and William would be dust. But alas your existence as Male Mate is so rare that Lore dictates you are a mark of prestige for any household and the Court to which it belongs, and therefore must be accepted. The Master would not forgive me a breach of the Lore in this matter. But you will *never* have status greater than a novel house pet, and *will* learn your place… just as my boys here must learn theirs.” 

With that she dropped her grip and sidled over to the hanging figures. She wet the torture instrument and began to systematically strike first one back then the other, tearing pale flesh whilst ‘reminding’ each vampire in turn of her place in the family, the consequences of disobeying her, and her disappointment in them generally. 

Xander kept trying to send love through his mating link but by the fifth blow the fear and pain flowing the other way caused him to look up and his own body to react. He was violently ill and began to cry, tears and mucus mixing with the stinking puddle below him.

It took but twenty five lashes before neither Angelus nor William was in any state to take in her lesson, so she simply took Dru by the hand, informing her that they would be visiting Daddy again later and walked out, taking the oil lamp that had lit the area with her. 

In complete blackness with the stench of bile and blood, Xander wished for… anything really… He wasn’t sure if he eventually passed out, or how long they had been in the room, it was just so dark he couldn’t tell even with his improved vision. He heard Wil and Angelus moan occasionally and once Angelus rasp, “Wil?” which was answered by a pained grunt.

Several minions eventually entered the space carrying lamps, mop and a number of buckets of cold water. Angelus then Wil was doused, the water thrown from such a distance as to cause the bodies to jolt with pain. 

Xander was similarly washed down, appreciating the act despite the cold. He had had to urinate during his time in the dark, happy now to be a little clean, and his dripping wet hair allowed him to suck a little water from the strands. He was surprised when one of the minions pushed a dripping rag against his mouth, allowing him a little more moisture. 

Darla waltzed back in moments later, “That’s enough. Now leave us.” The minions scurried out as Drusilla all but danced into the room, “Come along Dru our boys are waiting.” 

“May I feed them and lick their blood, Grand mummy? Look it’s making such pretty rivulets with the water.”

“Oh for the devil’s sake… alright – but you may not feed your Childe until he and the pet understand their place properly.” Dru lapped each bloodied back in turn, fussing over some areas, reopening a welt here and there and generally laving wherever she could reach. She then bit her own wrist and pressed it against Angelus lips. He responded, taking a few drafts from his dark girl, then accepted his Sire’s blood.

Revived he managed a “Thank you, Sire” and was then let out of his restraints, collapsing onto the floor for a moment but standing rather painfully when Darla announced, “I have not finished with you yet. Stand – you will assist me in giving Wil and this Mate of his a little more in the way of a lesson. Now turn Wil to face us, and here, gag him, he needs to watch but I want him silent.”

Angelus turned Wil carefully, aware that the wall would be rough on the raw back if it made contact. He attached the gag and whispered, “OK?” and saw a faint nod before pained blue eyes held his for a second.

Darla pulled Dru over to stand behind Xander, “You may punish our naughty pet dearest, but only until I say.” Xander heard a delighted squeal then jumped as a slim, preternaturally strong hand struck his backside and continued to spank him, each stroke causing his body to jolt forward and squash his penis and scrotum against the table. 

He had no idea how long it went on for, just that he lost count after fifteen and that it stopped instantly upon Darla’s command. But the mad vampire had obviously begun swaying and was now rubbing her hips against Xander’s exposed behind. The human was disgusted with himself when he realized he was actually grateful for the cool folds of material brushing against his abused skin.

“Very good Dru, I’ll have something else for you in a minute. Angelus you will assist Dru in demonstrating to your wayward Grandchilde that his pet, oh ‘silly’ me, his Mate *must* respect the Lore – just as we all must – and that means Sire’s rights.” The hanging blonde choked a little as he tried to work against his gag. Darla was on him in a split second. She grabbed his scrotum and squeezed hard, “You have no choice *William* and I suggest if you do not wish to service your mate as a eunuch, then you accept.” Wil eventually nodded then hung his head as Darla began to move away. “And you *will* watch and remember!”

“Now Dru darling, stand back a little so you can play with this in that lovely backside while Daddy has a treat” Darla was at Xander’s head again yanked his face up and had pulled Angelus, literally by his nether region into line with Xander’s slightly open mouth. She growled, “Now pleasure him.”

Angelus was as unexcited as Xander about the whole affair, and still hardly able to move thanks to his back. The limp flesh needed to be directed into Xander’s mouth twice as the human lost grip with the tricky angle and no use of his hands. He did his best to pretend it was Wil but the circumstances just wouldn’t allow the leap of imagination and any hope of fantasy was ended with the shriek from Darla. “Drusilla! Put that where it belongs.”

Xander felt a sudden intrusion in his rear, but realized with a prayer of thanks that the object was *extremely* wet – obviously with Dru’s fluids. Xander tried desperately to keep the suction up while Dru began to see saw the dildo in and out with no particular care for depth or timing. 

Surprisingly Angelus began to harden and during the process of arousal, bent his legs a bit more and leaned forward – using the bench for support. It was a relief for Xander to be able to breathe a little better, particularly as Drusilla varied the angle of the dildo and struck his prostate causing him to see stars. Dru then proceeded to hit the gland with uncanny consistency.

Xander was so utterly bound that he was unable to do anything but be used and rather horrified that his own sex was showing very definite, painful interest.

He felt Angelus approaching climax but felt slender iron fingers cut it off and the Master vampire shoved away with the instruction, “Stop. None of you will come!” Angelus backed away panting a little and holding himself tight until the urgency subsided. Drusilla simply pushed the dildo all the way in with a “There” then wandered off. 

Darla too seemed to lose interest instantly, “Angelus see this mess is all cleaned up and that William is fed. I’m going out.”

 

Strangely, after all the trauma, everything seemed to calm completely. Indeed now Darla had accepted his presence and status, the life of the vampire's Mate was often very pleasant.

He was fed well, clothed in the company of humans, and allowed to go out with Wil on occasion. Their excursions varied, at times to an exhibition or gallery, sometimes to bawdy taverns or a show. At those times he knew the family hunted, but Wil spared him the pain of seeing more than was unavoidable.

Xander’s status in the vampire world was an interesting one – more a curiosity than anything. When Darla hosted members of the vampire courts or other influential demons, Wil led him into the room where he would be introduced, stared at for a time then, like the teenager at an adult party, expected to be polite, and ignored for the most part, Wil, always attentive and watchful of his Mate’s feelings and after any event the two would sit up in their joint bed and debrief.

……………..

Xander had eased Spike up until he was leaning against his Mate’s chest, Xander continuing to stroke the rumpled hair and reassure, reminding him of their London homes, trips away, the good times, and their devotion to each other.

Finally Spike’s eyes opened and he turned in Xander’s arms until wide innocent blue orbs stared into Xander’s love filled gaze. 

“Why Xan? How?”

“I think that’s one only the witches or Giles can help us with. You feeling up to it?”

Spike stared at his own hands, fiddling with a thumb ring then asked, “Are you?”

“Anything for you, Wil. Anything”

Spike took an unnecessary hitched breath then pushed himself to standing and held out his hand for Xander.  
Part 8 

Willow noticed the slow but sure walk of the two male figures as they emerged from the basement and the fact that they were firmly, and very obviously, holding hands. 

There was an awkward silence where once an exuberant Xander in his late teens would have jumped in with a happy hello and some quip to break the ice. Now it was a controlled almost worryingly still Xander, who was seen to squeeze the hand of his Mate Spike and wait for others to respond to their presence. 

Finally it was Giles who spoke, “Yes well, perhaps we should sit and… well chat with the two of you… umm… I don’t imagine you have had time to… ah… discuss… Oh dear…” Giles pulled off his glasses and polished them furiously. “You see we are all a little at a loss. It seems the whole history of the Scourge, Spike, Angelus, Darla and Drusilla, seems to have been altered. You see, I have returned to the Watcher diaries and frankly… you are now one of the features of William the Bloody’s early days. Indeed it seems apparent that it was only after you… ahhh… left… that the ‘family’ fell apart.”

Spike squeezed his Mate’s hand hard, cleared his throat a little, and looked up to catch Xander’s worried expression, “He’s right pet… You went missing then we searched. Dru was crazy, Darla left and Angelus tried, but I… I just couldn’t deal Xan… 

Spike ceased trying to encompass the room and simply focused on his Mate, “I was… My *mate* was gone!... I was empty, half, nothing… and Dru was hysterical, kept saying she had caused it… truth be known she might have… who knows… I just wanted the hurt to stop… just had to find a way to make it end…”

Spike’s voice faltered to almost a whisper, but his dear Mated Consort kept hold of the hand and pressed his well defined leg against Spike’s slim thigh while sending adoration through their renewed link. 

Spike took strength then looked hard at Giles, “Angelus did everything he could, but I took on anything and anyone, reveled in the fight, figured I’d go out all guns blazing if I couldn’t have my boy back… Whole villages, Master vampires, demon families, you name it… humans didn’t have a hope.”

Xander worried as Spike became more and more distressed, but Giles was persistent, “So you were proving yourself?”

Spike growled, as (surprisingly for the ‘Scoobie’ audience) did Xander, “You *prat*! Nothin’ to prove… just needed to punish them’s what’s took ‘im… and everyone else besides.”

But Giles persisted, “And the railway spikes?”

“Oh come on! Makin’ a point wasn’t I. Needed ‘em all to know that me, the Aurelian, would find the f@#$ers who took my Mate and deall!! Bloody vampire *pride* not to mention… Ahhh geez… you know what? I *don’t* need to do this! Watchers ‘ve got their soddin’ story… C’mon luv, let’s go kill something’.”

Xander was all but dragged from the room, but not before Giles thought he noted a yellow tinge to the former Scoobie’s eyes but was more disturbed by the rather un-Xander-like grace of movement, eventually putting it down to his imagination. 

It was Willow who spoke first after the two had departed, her simple statement, “It’s not really the old Xan anymore, is it?” articulating both their concerns, but Giles cleared his throat thought for a moment then replied, “No… but it is unlikely we are the same people as three years ago either… wouldn’t you agree?”

Willow simply nodded, “He hasn’t talked about his parents yet Giles… they deserve to know Xan is alive! I’ll talk to Xan… but can you maybe… you know… ring his mum?”

“It’s the least I can do…”

………………….

Spike was moving at such a pace that had Xander not been a mated consort, with the speed and other attributes that entailed, there was no way he could have kept up.

Spike strode through two cemeteries, dusting five newly risen vampires before even slowing down, and was on his way out of the third, when he saw what he thought to be a fledgling in full throws of sexually attacking of a rather young ‘Dawn-like’ girl who was most definitely screaming the words *Help* and *No*! He flew into game face, flung the assailant away without thought for the chip. Sadly it was only as the young man hit a nearby gravestone hard enough to stun him that Spike noted rather too belatedly the attacker was human. 

Buffy arrived in the same locale just in time to see the action and Spike falling to the ground holding his head as he always did with the pain from the chip. The Slayer yelled to Xander to help the girl then swiftly pinned the now terrified offender, tied his hands and feet, called the police, and moved over to calm the girl.

Xander was conscious that Spike was still on the ground head in hands, and was more than a little concerned. He thought he sensed something very wrong, so when Buffy moved to take over from him with the girl, he squeezed his old friend’s arm, “I think I better help Spike… You be OK here?”

Buffy glanced over and saw the curled up leather clad figure, “Yeah… get him out of here Xan. Police will be here any minute, I’ll, um, deal… When he’s stopped hurting, tell him thanks, OK?”

Xander nodded and Buffy turned her attention back to the girl and the faint sound of approaching sirens.

Xander gently lifted Spike to his feet and led him into the night. 

Far enough away from Buffy and the incident, Xander eased his friend to the ground and was more than a little distressed when Spike (still in game face) turned away from him. 

“Please Spike… *please* is it still hurting you? What can I do?... Spike *please* what can I do to help?” 

Talking to the ground rather than Xander, the blonde vampire whispered, “That’s just it Pet… after all this time… somethin’s happened… chip didn’t fire… not even a twinge. Shoulda known… felt different since… but it was all confused… Least she might not dust me straight away… you know… white hat, soul, that sorta thing…”

Xander had been squatting beside his partner but now sat back with a thud, “What?? Spike but you fell… and then… But this is *great*!!! Oh G#$ Spike you can protect yourself! You can hunt! Bite! Spike you’re…”

“Ensouled, Xan, I have a soul, a conscience, call it what you will, I can’t go killing again!”

Xander’s memories of his Wil were too bright and he blurted out without thinking, “What about all those parties and the skimming! Even Angelus did it!”

With that Spike sprang to his feet fast followed by his Mate, and a dark figure stepped from the shadows, “Yes he did, and taught you well didn’t he, my Wil.”

……………….

There had been parties for days in preparation for their household and many others of the upper class human society (and a few demons) ‘moving abroad’ as the ridiculously short summer abandoned English shores. 

The Aurelians were headed for Paris – at Darla’s insistence. Drusilla had no idea what was going on; Darla only went for the Master and was still struggling with the language, though adored the fashion and the court; Angelus tolerated it and looked forward to spending time in the various art spaces and less reputable parts of the city; and William couldn’t wait.

The journey for Wil’s Mate was less than pleasant, however. Wil put a cool damp towel to Xander’s forehead after he threw up for the ninth (or was it tenth) time on the short, rather rough boat trip across to Calais. Wil held him, petted him and encouraged sleep with a more than usual drawing of his blood and an open wrist. Xander didn’t exactly sleep, but finally rested across his master vampire’s firm lap and accepted (truth be known rather tearfully) a calming hand.

Xander was never more pleased to see dawn coming as they approached the shore. It would at least mean there was solid ground for twelve hours or more. From bitter experience Xander (and Wil for that matter!) had discovered that a long train ride with closed windows and unpredictable lurching did nothing for a human with motion sickness. 

There was a solution, learned in a few ‘country breaks’ from a rather frantic and sometimes dangerous London. It would be utilized on the train ride the following evening. Wil would puncture a finger and allow his Mate to suck on it as a distraction, this would alternate with gentle petting of his mating mark. It was tolerated though carried an obvious measure of disapproval from Darla. Xander saw the disdain and worried, but feeling a cool hand stroke over his silvery scar yet again was utterly distracting. 

The ten minute carriage ride from the port to an elegant private hotel was further torture for Xander as he was forced to kneel at Wil’s feet (at Darla’s insistence) on the cramped floor of the carriage. He would have been ill again had it not been for the distraction of trying to move his hand from under Darla’s right shoe heel, knowing full well that she had placed it there with intent, and was deliberately making light conversation with William who was fully aware of his Mate’s discomfort but unable to assist.

Darla and Dru were helped from the carriage by minions then took Angelus’ arm and were accompanied into their new abode. Wil was left to supervise the moving of the luggage trunks and assist his still very shaky Mate from his kneeling position, down the high steps and up to their rooms.

The setting was sumptuous after the typical 19th century fashion. Gilded furniture, dark colours, numerous cushions and an overly ornate wallpaper. 

Wil ended up carrying Xander the last flight of steps. He had turned as they ascended the first to see a mind willing but depleted body unable. Fearing his Mate’s grey pallor and profuse sweating spelt another round of nausea, Wil moved just in time to catch Xander as he fell in a dead faint.

Darla was standing in the doorway tugging at a reluctant hat pin as the two arrived.

“Oh for Hell’s sake! I *hope* you organized our luggage before you started playing with… *that*!” She flung her hat in the general direction of the small hallway dresser, “*Angelus*!!! William is here. And I ordered a bath… What on earth happened to service around here? *Angelus*!!!”

Angelus came through the second bedroom door, looking more than a little flustered, “Sire, I have been restraining Dru as you demanded.” He flashed a look of complicit sympathy across to Wil who was still holding an unconscious, very ill looking Mate and trying to do anything but be noticed by the vicious Grande Dame of their family.

Moving toward the annoyed blonde Angelus flashed fangs at his Grandchilde and looked pointedly toward the parlour as he relieved her of the chore of removing her coat. 

“Let me assist you with that Sire.” 

“Finally!” Darla then turned and rubbed against her Childe. “Now my sweet boy, have that runt of Dru’s hurry up that bath. I would have you pleasure me and simply can’t imagine doing that with this travel filth all over me!”

It bought Wil enough time to gently settle Xander on the chaise lounge and cover him with a tasseled throw, before hurrying off to push or shove or… whatever it took… the minions and staff into action.

Xander came too later that evening, *not* moving, warm and comfortable, and aware that Wil was not present but in the building. He blinked and took in his surroundings. 

There was a tray containing a large pitcher of barley water, fruit and cod liver oil (the latter apparently Wil’s mother’s answer to all ills). He understood and reached out through his Mating link. Wil was attending his own Sire. It was to be expected. He had seen enough of the family to know that Darla would have her demands met first but that Dru would be badly treated as a consequence, unless Wil could get to her.

Xander struggled up. He was still dizzy and almost disgraced himself before finding the chamber pot. Apparently his system had not quite managed to expel *everything* until now. 

He used the cleaning bowl and jug of fresh water, rinsing his mouth with his drinking water, before gratefully toweling down with a thick linen body towel and using the provided violet oil to sweeten his skin. At least he would smell acceptable at last, even if there was another seven or more hours in transit before they were at their accommodation in Paris. 

Xander loved the experience of other countries – something he had never been able to do as a Sunnydale Scoobie – but knew now that he *really* did not relish the ‘getting there’!

As soon as he was clean – and had consumed as much of the repast as he dared, he proceeded to pack Wil and his meager possessions, then moved to find his Master. As expected he was with Dru. She was still bound but the Mate noted, she had been washed, massaged and pleasured and was still sighing ‘My Wil, my lovely poet… Daddy is so proud…” 

Wil woke as his human Mate, still looking decidedly drawn, knelt at his feet and offered his neck. 

“Oh Luv… I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Xander whispered, realizing later that Dru would have heard anyway, “Please Master Wil… please take of me.”

“I was right to take you… my dear heart… thank you”

Xander felt the prick and the laving tongue, reached for his Wil’s nether regions, then registered little else as his body gave in to ecstasy. 

 

The train ride was not as bad as he expected and the six weeks in Paris extremely pleasant. Not the least because Darla was happy and preoccupied with maintaining her position as darling of both human and demon Courts. Her talent was seduction and the aim was power. And beyond that there was the sweet taste of overly plump European aristocracy, overly bored ‘new money’ Industrialists wives, and the occasional brutal killing of a demon clan Master by the ‘Scourge’ – the only time she truly valued her childer.

For the most part Xander enjoyed their time. Wil took him to art exhibits; he accompanied his Mate, Angelus and Dru to numerous plays and nighttime entertainment, and for the most part he was able to turn a blind eye to the body count they left in their wake… For the most part. 

Although the interesting thing for Xander was that the body count was *less* than expected. Angelus seemed to adore the intrigue and challenge of destruction of the human first – much more than he loved the actual draining. Consequently he would pursue some woman or man relentlessly, wooing or torturing mentally until they broke and until that day, feast on the city’s less savory characters. Dru was insane ergo, ate whatever she was led toward, consequently was often fed by minions prior to them going out (rather than risk the family with an ‘unsightly incident’). 

Wil preferred to skim if no other option emerged and, as a rather jealous Xander noted, often had willing participants in the activity… female *and* male.

The bourgeoisie of Paris had parties that were lavish, decadent and often rather debauched. Xander was on occasion dressed as manservant, an exotic white slave, a foreign plantation owner’s son, the younger ‘studious cousin’, and *twice* a niece! (The latter being a result of a giggly Dru who insisted on a ‘sister’ to accompany her!)

Xander was almost happy. His role in the household was clear when Darla was present he always knelt on the floor and deferred to all in the family. He braided the women’s hair (and once in a while that of Dru’s doll’s to match), clipped Angelus’ cigars and serviced ‘Willie’ for a bored Darla’s perverse pleasure on several occasions. But by and large was left alone with his Wil in private and in public. 

He adored his time at ‘liberal’ parties when he was acknowledged as ‘Wil’s partner’ and was allowed to show his affection in the presence of others. And he genuinely loved the Wil that took the time to show him books and art and culture. He just *didn’t* like it when he was left to amuse Dru when Angelus took away Wil ‘for a run’.

Their month up, Xander would never forget the day they were to move on to the south of France and from there to Spain for the Autumn. 

Darla had misplaced her favourite string of south sea pearls, refused to leave before they were found and blamed *everyone*. Her tirade lasted two hours, involved several minions being dusted and every piece of luggage being repacked. Finally it was Xander who found the prize happily adorning Drusilla’s ‘Miss Margaret’, the deranged vampire not even aware enough to know there was a fuss and most annoyed when the doll was divested of her ‘pretty baubles’, Xander finally managing to retrieve them by promising to personally carry Miss Margaret for their trip as she would be ‘ever so sad’.

For his trouble the necklace was grabbed and with lightening speed and precision Xander was slapped so hard that he flew backwards almost four yards and his head struck the marble mantle. Even Angelus’ eyes flashed yellow as the lady of the house swiftly changed gear, demanding, “We need to leave at once… Come, come Angelus are you going to arrange our transport, or must I do *everything*?!”

Wil gave Angelus a look of appeal which saw him allowed to tend the unconscious and bleeding Mate while the carriage was loaded and Darla was distracted the blood of a hapless flower seller caught as she walked past their building on her way home.  
………………..

Xander acknowledged Angelus’ presence immediately and fell into habits of the last three years so, as not to disgrace his position in the family, knelt at Wil’s feet, shoulder touching knee, then addressed the elder Aurelian with as much confidence as he could muster given the confusion of the last few days, “Master Angelus?!”

The two elders of the Aurelian household were rather stunned by the turn of events, or more importantly the changes.

With all the distractions of his own life in Los Angeles, including the birth of Connor disastrous theft then return of the boy and everything in between, Angel had borne the changing memories with the same stoicism he bore his guilt. He wore it, reveled in it, regretted things a thousand times over then brooded once more… 

Other than a phonecall to his agency in its early days of Wesley, Cordy and Gunn, he had little or no knowledge of Xander’s apparent disappearance, nor of any news of the shift in Spike’s status regards his ‘chip’. And since he deliberately cut off all ties to the Aurelians (and Spike with him eventually) when he was ensouled, there was no reason to feel different… So when it was apparent that all angles of inquiry had dried up in the City of Angels, a simple report went to Willow from Wesley and the matter was all but forgotten. But now… 

Spike’s memories were back, the link from Childe to GrandSire was tenfold as his Mated Consort prostrated himself on the ground and begged for recognition in the ingrained response according to Vampire Lore. This was family. Family just as important and confusing as his recent trauma with Connor… but also, in a strange sort of way… less complicated. 

Xander scratched a broken nail at his neck hard enough to draw blood, Spike fell to his knees and bared his carotid for the taking, both men (now hand in hand) simply saying, in unison, “Please Sire.” And Angel gave up all control. The boy was the marked Mate of his Childe.

His demon took each in turn, lovingly caressing the faces that now made sense, appreciating the age and experience of the two, feeling the love between them. And, when first Spike then Xander (with his tiny fangs) took of his blood, fell forward into a loving embrace, the three eventually lying together, oblivious of the cold ground while deep loss and love was dealt with and appreciated.

Spike pulled himself up reluctantly, “Think we should move in case our friendly Slayer decides to come back. Reckon she’d have kittens if she knew you came to see anyone other than her ladyship.”

Two hours later they were in an old pickup heading toward a pretty spot just slightly out of town. Spike was still reeling from the night’s bizarre events but couldn’t help himself, “Never picked you for a chevvy man, you get a good trade on the ponce-mobile?”

“What? No this is Gunn’s – mine’s… grrrr, never mind.”

The statement might have been a little curt, but it seemed to ease the tension, so as Angel parked and the three got out, the question, “So what are your plans now, Spike?” seemed a natural one. 

“Could ask the same of you, Sire, you plannin’ on stayin’ with family this time?”

The driver side door slammed shut hard. This was an old argument, one they had played out many times. “And you planning on playing the sympathy ‘I’m so hurt I’m gonna be an asshole card?’ Spike you lost a Mate, I lost *everything*… I got my soul back, Spike.”

“So the F#^&ing Hell *did I*!! So back off!!!!”

Angel visibly shocked. The blood had tasted different but the whole thing was… and now this!? How could he not have known?

“Why? How? Geez Spike?! Why didn’t you come to me?”

“What? ‘Cause our relationship has been so *meaningful* since Sunnydale. You offered the boy here – don’t you remember? Taunted me with someone who looked like the unmarked version of my Mate then almost had me dusted! Not a lot of love there!”

Angel did not defend himself. His memories now so confused, he was unsure why he had offered the *unmarked* boy who so looked like his estranged Grandchilde’s Mate as bait, except that he was all… well... confused at the time! He did know that he had felt intense anger toward both Spike and Xander when his insane soulfree persona emerged in Sunnydale. Not the least of which was residual memory of his Childe’s desperation and shenanigans when the boy first disappeared. 

His actions toward Spike in his latter Angelus manifestation had been despicable but even more confusing yet also explained in part why a mere human boy was able to force the great Angelus to back down… 

None of them - Angel, Spike or Xander - could quite fathom the bizarre circular loop that was now their lives but it was the crestfallen look on Angel’s face that alerted Xander, for the first time, to the true difference between the Master Angelus of Aurelius, and the ensouled version. He was about to speak but Spike felt the jolt of sympathy and love coming from his newly found Mate, so spoke first.

Beleaguered by years of yearning yet almost hopeful as an innocent child, he addressed his Sire one more time, “I sought out my soul. My Mate has found his way home. The *muzzle* imposed by the government of this damned colony put on me has been fried… Sire… *Please* This is my Mate. Regardless of circumstance… Would you deny me… us… now? Could you? Will you? Have you? Will you deny *us*… *again*? You? My Da? My true Sire?” 

Xander held his breath and Spike waited for a time then turned into Xander’s embrace only to ease back as the soft words emerged. “So many times... so many times I felt… but then… it all went to… I am going to… Hell… And been there ::ironic snort:: Not that I didn’t deserve it… But since we saw … well you know the Sunnydale scenario and beyond… well?! The anger, confusion, hurt, mixed memories and love, all intermingled and in the end there was… But this isn’t about… I’m so sorry… so sorry… Your chip?” 

Angel appeared to be going into a full brood so Spike slapped him hard, “Y’ol wally!!” But then, with a simple hand squeeze from his Mate, let his demon loose to grieve and adore the return and… Sire. 

The moment passed and Spike seemed to collapse – much to both Xander and Angel’s utter distress. Blood exchange later, Spike, in the supportive arms of his so recently found partner, spoke at almost a whisper. “Boy here sorted the chip, n’… never mind… Dunno how exactly… still… Figure you’re here for a reason… too much to ask for a blessin’ f’r ol’ times’ sake… you know nice an’ proper like…” The begging, vulnerable look of a fledge to his Sire was not missed by Angel, and augmented by the Mate and Childer link and the unmistakable cheeky grin… Angel had no choice. 

He pulled his wrist open and scored his neck, an act unheard of since his flight to ‘nowhere’ after his soul was re-installed.

In the end blood was exchanged without question or word, and three lost family members reunited in blood and tears… 

Xander was the first to break the reverie, falling on habit again, prostrated himself before politely asking that they all might meet again soon and leave the link open. 

The request, however, was not needed. Angel knew, Wil had left years ago, his Mate lost and reaction – his change to Spike - the stuff of legend. Angelus had been cruel if only to hold the family together but then there was Darla and the gypsies, and he wondered rightly if she knew of the consequences of that encounter in advance, given her return to the Master so swiftly after.

“I do need to get back Sp… Wil, but please… when things settle down again… will you??”

“Ya dopey git… ‘course! Now get your sorry arse back in that pickup and go do whatever you need to do.” A rather crestfallen Angel turned to go but smiled to himself as he heard the added “An’ don’t get dusted afore we have a chance t’ come visit an’ hit you for a hundred or so years of me yearly allowance!”

He waved to the two as he pulled Gunn’s jalopy back onto the road. 

The relationship with Spike would never be an easy one after so much time, but he felt a little happier as he headed toward Los Angeles despite heading into obviously bad weather. And he recalled the first trip to Spain for the family with Wil’s new Mate in tow.

As Spike and Xander headed back toward Willow’s home, they too noted the weather and were struck by similar thoughts. 

If the weather had closed in, so had other things, in Spain there had been a ‘reckoning’.  
Part 9

It was early morning and the walk back to Willow’s took over an hour, but it was a comfortable hour, the sky was black with clouds, the wind dropped in anticipation of a storm, and no more words needed to be exchanged. The two simply walked, shoulders occasionally touching, hands momentarily brushing each other, fingers occasionally entwining then releasing.

Spike let them in quietly and led his Mate down to the basement. They stripped in silence and settled onto Spike’s narrow single mattress, the Mate spooning his vampire and feeling the joy as his Wil reveled in the warmth at his back and clutched the hand that made its way to his private parts.

“Not sayin’ No pet, but can we just…” 

Xander smiled, tugged the fluffy blankets over both of them and rewarded the notion of simple comfort with a chaste kiss to the neck and slightly tighter hug, after which the two slept. 

Willow greeted them early afternoon. It was Saturday and Willow had been over to ‘command central’ and had only just returned from the Magic Box as two very disheveled, shirtless, satisfied males emerged through the basement door

She looked decidedly down despite her chirpy, “Well look at my two favourite men with bed hair… Um… oh… I… me not saying that you would… well obviously you do… but on that small bed and… Oh Goddess… shutting up now.”

Spike gave her a wink and such a knowing smile that the witch blushed deep crimson, “Mornin’ to you to Luv. Now apart from seein’ the boy an’ me in our afterglow what’s got you all stirred up?”

Willow’s glance went to her feet, then Xander and back to Spike, and she seemed to slump, “Well Tara’s gone for a few days again… work for the Goddess I guess she never really is allowed to say… and…” Willow paused but was winding the tea-towel in her hands so tight that Xander feared she would do it or herself some damage!

“C’mon Pet. Better out than in or you’ll burst.”

Willow looked up for a moment then back at the twisting linen, “Xan… I’ve um… that is we… Giles-rang-your-parents-Xan! We thought we should… just to let them know you’re OK… Ohh Goddess… but they’ve been grieving for you, we all have, for three years!”

Xander was visibly shocked, though more at the notion that he hadn’t thought to call them than the idea of his mother and father knowing he had returned. “I’m sorry Wills… Gahhh!! With all the… I didn’t even think!” 

Spike reached for then squeezed his newly found lover’s hand, “’S OK Pet… we’ll do this one together…”

Willow rubbed over her eyes in a tired gesture, “So it’s OK then? I… I think Giles said he’d arranged it for tonight…” before changing tack and leaving the rather stunned vampire and mate with the words, “I need tea… anyone for Hari Chai?”, departing the hallway and proceeding to fill and flick on the kettle.

Spike tugged the brunette behind him as he followed the witch into the kitchen. “Nice of you to arrange our bloody social calendar, Red! But when were you thinkin’ of consulting the boy here?!!” The statement was unconsciously accompanied by a low growl.

Willow spun to face the vampire, eyes flashing black to match Spike’s near yellow challenge. “Don’t even start *mister*! *You* two might have been getting reacquainted but *some of us* are just trying to sort out the real world… so *back off*!” A bolt of lightening from Willow’s hands struck both men mid-waist and flung them, rather painfully three steps back and into a wall.

Willow immediately regained control and began to apologize but Xander interrupted as blood began to trickle from the side of his mouth.

“You’re right they should know… and it’s not Wi… Spike’s fault… so just tell me where and when Willow… don’t apologize… just tell us where and when.”

“I… um… oh it *wasn’t’ supposed to be like this!... Um… Six… six thirty pm… for um… dinner!”

Spike felt it, Xander was on the verge of collapse, so moved swiftly to catch him as the brunette muttered, “Oh Gh@#d... Spike they’ll probably be…”

Willow cut him off, “Desperate to see you… And Xan… don’t worry… things really have changed!

They drank tea, dressed quickly then, as the sky darkened, the lightening flashed in the distance and rain began to fall on Willow’s small Audi, the three headed to the Harris household.

 

……………………………….

Xander’s first experiences of Spain were horrid. Freezing cold weather through the mountains did nothing for a warm human body and seemed to defy the summer months as pelting rain assaulted their vehicle. More to the point it was the winding mountain passes, tight woman’s bodice and female attire he was forced to wear (at Drusilla’s insistence) making breathing difficult and upset stomach clench, and the humiliating, painful cock piece (‘compulsory’ according to Darla, though all knew otherwise) that gave the entire experience its torturous edge. By the end of the second day it was only sucking on Wil’s finger that made the urge to expel his stomach contents and the headache bearable, though he genuinely wished his brain might expel itself through his nose as it seemed to want to do!

Wil was attentive and a kind to a fault, encouraged by his Sire and enabled by their very close quarters to touch him constantly. He made a pretty though overly tall ‘girl’ with curly dark tresses, and big hands. But few seemed to notice – or rather those who commented were swiftly dispatched. Dru may have been ‘mad as a Hatter’ on a good day but her was as deadly as Darla when pushed. And insulting ‘her cousin Andrea’ was grounds for the death penalty it seemed. 

Happily for Xander, the mad vampire lost interest in the game as they traversed the flat open plains of central Spain and the boy from Sunnydale who had never really been *anywhere* reminded himself that he had always wanted to travel.

Madrid was a delight, and Xander, the product of a rather average education, found himself able to recall a surprising amount of Spanish, regardless of his ability (or otherwise) according to Senora Lavita of Sunnydale High. After a week he was conversing in simple terms, after a month speaking with relative ease – and in utter awe of Wil who seemed to have made the switch from English to French to Spanish with no effort whatsoever. 

Their experience of Madrid was not unlike the general populace, and the habit of ‘siesta’ determined that the family was *expected* to be in during the heat of the day and enjoy walks in the cool of the evening.

They took rooms in a pension and entertained, much as they had in London. Evenings often involved a wander up the wide pathway of trees dividing the main road to the summer palace. Peppered with small rotundas and places to sit, it was a favourite for travelers and locals alike, the perfect hunting ground.

The viciousness of the bullring was a delight for the vampires, though Angelus complained regularly that the contest was so uneven and the matador rarely in danger. Xander was inclined to agree – in empathy for both bull and matador, rather than Angelus’ delight in the gory death of man or beast. Realistically, by the time the bull had ten or twelve lances hanging from its rump and blood flowing freely to the ground, there was little challenge in delivering the final blow… Picking off the patrons was far more entertaining.

The bizarre part for Xander was to watch almost impassively these days, as the deadly four chose then obtained their victims. 

For Darla it was inevitably an elderly gent who appreciated her attentions and was amenable to a fondle and a kiss, then would apparently succumb to heart failure. Angelus generally chose attractive blonde women, often pursuing them from bullring to party and often back again, only to end with an evening stroll before drinking his fill as the last bull of the evening succumbed. Drusilla was happy to feed on anything, but the family directed her to at least be safe. She had a penchant for alter boys and members of the church, which in the intensely catholic Spain were definitely in abundance, however priests were missed as were beloved youngsters of the choir, consequently she was strictly supervised. 

Wil inevitably chose pretty humans to feed on, the gender irrelevant, and the seduction before the bite sweetening the blood and having the victim’s satisfaction all but guaranteed – be the welcomed bite fatal or otherwise. 

Xander was sometimes used as a foil, or straight out bait, but often watched Wil work his magic as the mate rubbed his own mark. His slightly elongated canines teeth were often to the fore as he watched his Mated Master take his needs… then wondered at his own profound change. The wonder would only ever last if Darla had had a successful hunt when the family gathered again. Twice when her efforts had been rejected, she forewent beating Drusilla or Wil, and Xander had been near drained. Had it not been for Angelus intervening within seconds, his convalescence over the following week would have been irrelevant and his death swiftly followed by the demise of his mated vampire. 

They stayed in Madrid for an entire month, Xander an odd distraction in the rich tapestry of the Spanish vampire court. The boy from Sunnydale knew he was in no position to save the humans trussed ready to be consumed by the Master of Madrid’s guests, but on their second last day in the city, the Mate became so much more.

Darla and Angelus had departed for a weekend in Toledo – the local werewolf group holding a ‘post summer solstice celebration’ – i.e. an excuse for a wild party. Drusilla was having one of her ‘off months’, so Wil and the minions were left to deal with his chained lunatic Sire. 

They had managed to stay in for days but eventually, Drusilla calmed and was allowed to lose her restraints. Strictly speaking she had been fed on drunken revelers from various tapas bars and summer night parties around the city for days – often passing out just as her semi aware victims expired. A night before Angelus and Darla’s return, at Drusilla’s insistence, Wil and Xander accompanied her to a local opium house (also brothel for demons and humans, and all genders and preferences) run by Nesthor demons. 

Xander was more affected by the opiate than the either Wil or Drusilla but still maintained the wherewithal to realize there was trouble afoot. 

A local Spanish Master Vampire Ricardo had made an unwelcomed ‘pass’ at Drusilla. Initially nothing happened, then for some reason, the burly Spanish vampire decided to push his luck with the ‘whore Childe of Angelus’. It only took two comments before Drusilla was alternating between little girl mode and vicious killer. Wil flew to her defense as several of Ricardo’s minions stepped into the ‘cushion room’ and Xander took his back. 

The consequent fight was both bloody and spectacular as all but staff (other demons and humans suitably ‘lubricated’) all joined in. 

Ricardo and three dusted minions later (courtesy of Xander!) drew just a little too much attention and saw Darla and Angelus join their Childer a day later to an exuberant Drusilla raving about her ‘Willie – knight in bloodied armor’, and exaggerated accounts of their exploits, plus a rather large bill for the ‘inconvenience’.

It took five days of feeding from his exhausted Mate for Wil to recover from the beating that ensued, though Angelus did acknowledge that the massacre was hardly his Grandchilde’s fault. To his credit, Angelus fed both Wil and Xander as they recovered from their punishment, and was rather surprised that his Grandchilde’s Mate obviously took then relaxed when fed familial blood.

In Barcelona, Darla’s disdainful attitude toward the human mate altered. Apparently the incident in Madrid had alerted her to his willingness to fight, and loyalty to more than just Spike. 

The result was a strict training regime for both he and Wil under a demon Portuguese sword master then a strange blue individual with asian features and amphibian appendages who still managed to impart rather painful lessons in Eastern martial arts to the vampire and the mate. Both were a good study and quite enjoyed time away from the older three vampires.

Darla’s insistence that they ‘make that effeminate childe and his human mate somewhat useful’ honed Wil’s skills beyond those of his Grandsire, and saw Xander leaner and more fit than he had ever been. 

The event that changed him forever, however, was still to come.

With an instinct now given an edge courtesy of training and his direct link to his Wil, combined with the remnants of hyena and soldier possession, Xander was constantly underestimated as a curiosity – a human Mate. With Darla’s reluctant permission, he had was allowed to carry silver daggers strapped to his ankles. Convenient for most human parties but for many demon ‘events’ forced to wear ridiculous flimsy ‘slave attire’ that gave away their presence, and his collar of course.

Angelus had offended the host, but he and Darla had decided to depart anyway. They assumed family was behind them but Dru had been blissfully aware and continued dancing.

Wil saw it first, and, despite his deranged Sire being flanked by minions ready to strike on command the threat went unnoticed, and was more a deliberate attempt by a Master against Angelus than his female Childe (something about losing in a recent card game). 

Wil pulled from Xander’s calm embrace and sprang to his permanently baffled Sire’s defense. The young Master Vampire was surprised when he met little if any opposition as he pulled her from harm, though only post event realized what had occurred. 

Xander had seen Wil rise to defend Drusilla’s side, felt the transferred fear and anticipation, and reacted instinctively as any mate (or Hellmouth White Hat) might, added to that the recent month of intense training added to a life as a Slayer’s sidekick, and year in the ‘care’ of the Aurelians. The reaction saw the dusting of seven fledges, a human Mate take down a Moglath and two Tepkis demons before anyone had even registered the ‘human’ had moved. On instinct Xander had pulled the hand held silver daggers from their sheaths and swung with every move he could remember from his sparring, trusting that at least Wil and Angelus would arrive soon. 

Toward the end of the ensuing melee, Xander felt a blinding pain in his side. The Mate had been struck by a barb from a third Tepkis demon even as the huge grey blue figure’s two compatriots succumbed to the human Mate’s knives. 

Xander spun to meet the angry onslaught and only vaguely aware of the huge figure in front of him as his mating link signaled Wil close and his daggers found their mark. As he fell into black he knew that at least the primary assailants had fallen and his Partner’s Sire was safe. Then felt himself lifted, heard familiar welcome voices and tasted vampire blood. There were cool arms, and whispered endearments, before… *pain* and… black.

A day or two later, Xander woke to the joy of feeling his Mate close. He also felt a tightly bound arm and torso, and could not quite make out the reason for various demon parties visiting his bedside. 

Wil was still holding him and quietly explained. The Tepkis had been the bullies on the block, the fight had solved (inadvertently) a number of regional issues and the Aurelians had won the day in no small part due to the ‘dervish of a human Mate’. Now the mate was being honoured as Consort by other demon nations in the time honored Spanish fashion. 

Darla stood nearby, appearing smug as though it had been her idea all along, Angelus flanked her, more worried by Dru’s sudden apparent fascination with the doll she was carrying and ‘pretty petals from the ceiling’ than anything else. What none of them expected was the internal shift as the ceremony was performed. Xander and Wil endured the chanting and the anointing with strangely scentless fluids in the ‘time honored Spanish way’, before Xander was named ‘Consort’, and there was a shift, Wil felt it too.

Unlike in his Mating, this time Xander’s previous entities merged, he felt his elongated teeth push farther out than ever before then retract (apparently at will), and felt a strength just *itching* to burst, bundled somewhere inside his chest… and he felt Wil… all of Wil, the beauty and the pain, the Master and the still vulnerable yet strong remnants of Wil’s human self, the loyal lover and the survivor. He knew he was still alive, in that he had a heart beat, and he had (rather embarrassedly) a significant erection clear for all present to see. Mere days later he would learn of his ability to see in near blackness, and just how much further from human he had come. 

They had been left alone for an hour or so of calm, and of Wil adoring him yet again, but finally there was him being feted by the demon community, and Wil being congratulated by Darla, and him being congratulated as Mate who was now Aurelian Consort to William the Bloody.

His actions at that drunken party of demons and consequent naming as Aurelian Consort were to become part of demon folklore, the story made more potent by his catastrophic disappearance some year and a half later. But for now the Aurelians traveled back to London and their regular hunting grounds – Consort in tow.

 

………………………….

As they drove to Xander’s parent’s home, they were briefed by Willow. The story was that Angel Investigations had located the boy (now man) after many months of looking at Xander’s friends’ behest (and expense) and convinced him to come home; that he had been taken as a white slave and eventually kept hostage by a deadly gang; but that William, as Spike was introduced, had rescued him and they had become partners, though had no way of getting back to Sunnydale until found by AI.

Xander with his shoulder length curly locks, thick silver chain and thin build made the perfect match for his pale blonde companion. Both dressed in simple white T-shirts and black jeans, Spike accepted Xander’s hand temporarily as Willow knocked on the door of his house.

His mother had near collapsed and his father actually cried as the parents pulled their assumed dead son into a hug.

Xander could see the changes and Willow had warned him. His father and mother had sought counseling to cope with their grief. His father had sworn off drink, mother changed her workplace and both worked to comfort each other. Oddly in the tragedy of Xander’s abduction and consequent endless search for answers, the two had grown together in a way they had never experienced before.

It was an extremely awkward few moments as the five settled into the front room. Statements like “You look good…” and “The place hasn’t changed…” and “So you’re staying at Willow’s?...” then “You know you can always… that is your old room… we kept it…” were painful, silly really, but utterly necessary. 

Finally Willow offered to make tea, Tony asked if Xander would like to check out the new self built back deck, and Spike indicated he needed a smoke – Xander’s mother was about to ask if Willow needed help with the tea, but at the blonde man’s invitation followed him onto the front porch, and accepted a cigarette and light, never having really kicked the habit.

Xander stood shoulder to shoulder with his father as they leaned against the elegant new style metal balustrade and they stared out into the renewed garden with its solar lights and water feature. He could not think of anything to say so remained silent then spotted the tear splash on a perfectly oiled deck.

He turned to his father and saw the anguished look as Tony turned to slightly to look at his son’s hands and recognized the emotion for what it was. This was a man who had lost his son suddenly and without explanation; a man marked by three years of grief; a man who blamed himself for not being a good father; a man lost in his own way, who for three years had prayed in vain for his son’s safe return if only he might ask forgiveness for not being a better father.

Xander could clearly see a man trying to control his emotions and chose to wait for his father to speak first, the years in the Aurelian household teaching him that much was to be gained by remaining silent.

Tony turned away again to stare into the night, “We thought you were dead you know, your mother and I… but they couldn’t find your body… so… so… we never gave up hope because they didn’t find a body… I… I figured we would just keep looking in case… you know… in case you really had just… I don’t know… Your mother cried for weeks, and we both took to the bottle a bit too much… you know to cope… but it didn’t help… nothing helped. It was my fault… Of course it was my fault… I don’t know how to apologize for this any more?! I never thought I would get the chance! And thank God… but I am so sorry son… I’m *so* sorry, there had been that thing at work and then you came home with the report from your teacher… and I yelled… Oh God I yelled… and then you went out… I can’t blame you for that – you were seventeen and I yelled… and your poor mother… I can never make this up… Never”

His father put his forehead on folded arms on the balustrade and let tears begin to fall freely. And Xander finally broke his silence.

“Dad… Please?! After they took me, I kind of grew up I guess… And I realized that you guys… you and mum, had been pushed into things and … yeah you made some bad choices… but that’s what an adult I guess… someone who does what they need to do for those they love and try to cope with the rest… and you just do your best… Dad, I’m sorry that what happened caused you pain, but honestly? There’s nothing to forgive OK? Not from me… But please… If everything goes to Hell again… can you just know that I really do love you and mom… Please? Can you remember that??”

It was Xander’s turn to be teary but his father lifted from his place and took the lost son in another hug. Xander however, pulled out. “Dad, I know what you think about guys tog… well you know… homo… Dad I’m with Wil… as in I’m… Dad I’m gay and it’s not because of…” Xander waited for the anticipated anger to emerge but when a simple stunned silence was the response, jumped in, “Dad please don’t get mad, it’s not Wil’s fault! We… he… Oh Geez…”

He tried to push away but was too emotional, so was pulled in and held tight instead. “We’ve just found you again. You think that is gonna make a difference?! Son, we kind of suspected when you struggled with dating and just hung out with those weird female friends at school, and there is your Uncle Rory, of course.”

“Uncle R…?”

“Yup, Pink as a sea daisy and had the shoes to prove it.”

“But I never… Dad I don’t cross dress… Well only that one… Geez”

Tony smiled a little at the embarrassed back-peddling, “Son, if the man on our front porch talking to your Mom, is the reason you are safe and here now, then… but don’t run again… it will kill your mother and I… just don’t do that!”

“Dad, I never ran! And if you can… I can’t even explain how much Sp…Will has gone through because of me… yet here he is… I, um… Just… Thanks…” 

Tony gave his son what was meant to be a manly slap – though was more of another kind touch and associated one armed hug as they headed for the back door, only to see Spike leading Xander’s mother arm in arm from the porch.

“Well obviously your mother likes him?! I guess that means there’ll be ‘family dinners’ for four in our future… but don’t you dare adopt… that whole gay couples and grandchildren?!... At least give us a few years… OK?”

Xander was unsure whether his father was relieved, happy, confused, or just being sarcastic with the last part, so simply wandered back inside to enjoy Willow’s tea followed by both Xander and Spike being handed a barbeque apron and implements by a similarly attired Tony and the words, “Right… Well… barbeque… we’d better get cracking or you’re mother’ll get on her high horse about men and not helping again!”

The two boys busied themselves at the barbeque, and Xander could not help but send amazement and love through the link to his newly found beloved.

Willow wandered up behind the three ‘chefs’ and added her own two field mushrooms to the grill – explaining “Vegan… remember?”

That evening Xander wondered if it was his own joy at rejoining with his Wil that was doing it, but he had *never* seen his father as happy, and could only guess what Spike had talked to his mother about as she was obviously quite taken with her ‘boy’s charming foreign friend’. There was simple banter between the older Harrises, references to his mother’s ‘Wednesday tennis ladies’ and their foibles, countered by Tony’s penchant for hardware store ‘comfort shopping’ being jokingly criticized. It seemed that the two had genuinely rediscovered love through shared pain.

The night was a success in many ways but there were still secrets, the human mate/consort knew that was the full truth of his experiences ever to come out, the acceptance might be a little less than could be expected.

That night there was little to say. They bade Willow goodnight and walked hand in hand to the bed in the basement to make love as they did that night on their return to London. Consort and Master Vampire.  
Xander woke mid morning, too early vampire time, and rolled onto his back in the small bed, only to have Spike snuggle in tight to his side, pushing a top leg over to intertwine again and without waking, moved his arm over his Consort’s taught torso. Xander put one hand behind his head and used the other to quietly caress his lover’s ‘hugging’ arm rhythmically, deep in thought.

He had changed so much while away – but then, so had… everything here too, Willow and the tragedy with Tara, the dramas of that Initiative, Glory, Buffy and beyond. Yet in all of all the ‘otherly’ weirdness, it was learning of his parents’ response to his disappearance and their almost instant willingness to accept him as he was now, that was extraordinary. That coupled with Angel’s renewed connection with family since Xander’s miraculous return… it was so… he just wondered what was due to go wrong, after all it always did when he and Spike got a lucky break of some sort.

He was roused from his reverie by a quiet knock on the door. Willow whispered “Sorry, Xander? Are you…?” 

He eased away from his limpet-like, heat-seeking partner, letting Spike roll gently into Xander’s warm depression and relax. He tugged on a sweatshirt and jeans, then followed Willow upstairs. 

“Sweetie, Giles is going back to England tonight… He just wondered if he could have a talk with you before he leaves.”

For some reason Xander felt his stomach clench a little, and Spike stirred uncomfortably in his sleep, “Talk? Umm Yeah sure, but couldn’t we do it on the way to the airport? I mean… Are we still welcome to come out with you guys?

“Xander, sweetie… We’ll be driving back in daylight… so um.”

“Oh… yeah sure… Goodbyes from here then.”

Willow studied her hands hard, “Besides… Xan… He wants to talk to you alone… about your… um… changes.”

“If it’s about the gay thing then…”

“Xander, it’s not about the gay thing, or even about Spike directly, I think he just wants to know if you’re, you know… OK…”

The former Scoobie wondered what OK really meant but agreed… it was Giles after all. “Well… yeah sure… Um… when?”

“Well, now really… He’s waiting in the front room – he’ll go if you say ‘No’. It’s totally up to you but… Xan, this isn’t an inquisition or anything, he just wants to…”

“Know – I get it.” Xander sighed heavily and looked somewhat worried, but turned toward the lounge room anyway.

He slowed as he approached the doorway and was graced with the scene of Giles sitting with his hands folded and forehead resting on them as if in prayer.

Xander moved soundlessly, as his Consort’s nature and training allowed, until beside the settee and contemplated clearing his throat, but decided upon shifting to sit silently beside the now ex-watcher.

It was Giles who spoke in a near whisper as he felt the cushion beside him dip. “Thank you… even your entrance is a reason I must speak with you… I… Xander we tried *so* hard to find you… every avenue, but I should have taken more notice as the Watcher’s accounts began to change… and then Spike was acting extremely dangerously then outright insane – but with the chip – then his gaining a soul – well it really was anyone’s guess…”

“Giles… Giles… please look at me… I’m fine – in fact I’m better than fine. The last three years have changed me, Giles…” 

Giles looked up from his hands at that, “That my dear boy is exactly why I needed to… Xander I must ask, even just as a curious retired watcher and old friend… What exactly are your ‘changes’?” 

Before Giles had stopped speaking, Xander grinned and said, “Well obviously gay… and out – even to my parents last night… um… can speak reasonable French – at least well enough to get into trouble at dinner parties, hold my own in Italian too at a pinch. Also know how to lace a bodice properly and make a mean cup of tea with lemon. Oh and am pretty much up on vampire lore – well the application of anyway.”

“Oh please Xander, do be serious! What are the *physical* consequences of your …experience? You said you weren’t quite human, and that you and Spike were mated – twice? I need some sort of explanation… surely?! Why one earth would you agree to that?! How could you agree?” The aging ex-Watcher stared hard at the man opposite. The composure and stillness of the brunette was unlike anything he remembered of the youth he knew three years previously, the sculptured muscles and magical signature similarly unfamiliar.

“Giles, Wil is the reason I’m here… alive I mean… and happy. He saved me Giles, loved me, mated me and took the punishment for the same from the Bitch Great-Grandsire. The Consort thing was later, a reward(!) and a *celebration* of our commitment to each other, simple as that. I guess I always kind of knew, about the preferences… just didn’t want to admit. But after those few days at the beginning… Giles, he has been my lover, in every way. He is kind and loving and devoted and…” Xander’s voice dropped to a near whisper, “I’m sorry but I really did *not* want to come back…” Xander’s turn to admit the truth, “I really, truly, wanted to stay with him forever in the then! Things might have been so different for Wil if… but it was done – so… We’re together now…”

“But what of the effects of the Vampire Mating? Did you even consider? Xander what…”

Xander growled a little then let his eyes change to their brown ringed by gold, he had no ridges but Giles saw the fangs drop. Xander pulled the sweatshirt away from his neck to reveal a bright red claiming mark. “You want changes? Fine! I can see in the dark and hear better. I am connected to Wil in every way, and as his Consort, I am servant and equal, protector and lover. I am faster and healthier and loved in ways I never thought possible… That enough?”

Xander had felt Spike fly out of their bed when Xander’s fangs descended, but Giles was completely taken aback when the baritone voice intoned from the doorway, “Too right… an’ rules are we gotta exchange fluids every day… not a chore though… never was for us – was it Pet… but ‘causes all sorts of mayhem if one or other goes missin’ – death if the other is dusted. Most of it is the matin’, last bit’s a pressie after Spain wasn’t it Pet.” A shirtless Spike sidled up to stand easily beside Xander, hair in disarray from sleep and eyes flashing gold, but in control enough not to change. 

“Consort’s usually another demon type or a Halfling see? The joining binds the two - psychic connection, that sorta thing. Bit o’ physical boostin’ too. Bloody useful that ‘ey Pet?” Spike reached for Xander’s hand. It was willingly given and Xander wondered, how it was he had been so lucky. 

“Since we were already Mated just upped the anti a bit for both of us.”

Giles was still reeling from seeing the boy he though he knew, baring fangs and admitting he was happy, but did not miss the last part of Spike’s speech. 

Though still deep in thought he managed to say a barely audible, “Which accounts for your Master Vampire status at what? Four years turned… that is… according to the *new* Watchers’ accounts… and I see no reason to doubt.” Giles’ eyes widened as he stared and realized, “No wonder the Slayers were at your mercy… good lord?! But why not establish a court… surely.”

“Well that’s just it innit. Still fought ‘em on even ground… see… Nothin’ really meant anythin’ *after* did it?! Boy here scarpers (not of his own free will mind) and I’m left with… ah bugger it… I was weakened wasn’ I, hurtin’ and longin’, OK?! Guess I went a bit sack ‘o hammers for a while. Gave me ol’ Grandsire all sorts o’ trouble. Then Angelus disappears and the high duchess of hate, Darla, leaves me ‘n Dru high an’ dry.”

“I see.”

Spike leveled yellow eyes at the ex-Watcher“No… Don’t reckon you really do… Ripper. A hundred plus years by meself carin’ for me crazy Sire. And never stopped lookin’ for the boy – never stopped lookin’. Dru said he was in the mist and all ‘grey’ an’ such, o’ course. Never really got that… He weren’t dead, knew that, but… where was he!??”

Xander felt Spike’s pain and was behind him encircling the beloved waist and hugging him tight in a move so fast that Giles had trouble seeing it. Spike relaxed a little accepted the embrace for the reassurance it was, then added, “’S different now though innit. Mighty different.”

Their position was an all too familiar one – but in days gone by, whoever stood behind was allowed to take a few sips from their mate’s neck, now in front of Giles, Xander refrained and simply kissed the usual spot lovingly.

“Good lord… But… how do you see your future… together I mean? How will you live? Xander you will need to get a job, re establish yourself… What about school or work?”

Spike could not help the growl, “Not your business nor problem is it. Mate here is mine to worry about. I’ve got me resources. Might even hit up the ol’ Grandsire for me inheritance at last.”

Giles looked from Spike to Xander, the young man he thought he knew so well, leveling a steady confident gaze in his direction, dropping the tone and quietly, resolutely stating, “We will be fine Giles. So long as we are together, we will be fine.”

Giles appeared like he was about to say more but simply nodded. “You know you can always…”

“O‘course he knows, now come give the boy a proper hug an’ let Red get you on that plane to ol’ Blighty.”

Giles surprised both of them by embracing not just Xander affectionately, but also Spike. Xander could not help but grin at the look of shock bordering on embarrassment on the vampire’s face as Giles whispered “Look after him, Spike.” 

Moments later Giles was on his way to the airport in Willow’s car.

As the tail lights disappeared and the front door closed, Spike reached for his Mate’s hand, “Reckon we’ll pay the ol’ boy a visit sometime soon. Fancy London, now me bite’s back.”

Xander smiled knowingly. Despite their fame elsewhere, London had really always been William’s city.

……………………..

After the excitement of Spain the Aurelians’ return to London was relatively uneventful, almost ‘normal’. 

Angelus was again being pulled away by Darla, and Darla was over her ‘be nice to Consort’ moment and returned to her intensely violent, self involved persona.

Xander bore it, hid his fangs as William all but begged that yet another beating of his human was unnecessary. The one time Will refused point blank, Xander tried not to listen, or look. Strapped to the bench in the torture room he was again privy to Will’s beating – this time a tag team of Darla Angelus and Dru – her delight in no way reflecting their own reaction to the event.

Xander too had been striped by the Grand Dame’s whip, but he was still allowed to feed his master and the two had been left alone for almost three days, days that saw Angelus lave his grandchilde’s wounds and provide fresh blood (on foot as it were, semiconscious street dwellers dragged in and drained by a desperately injured vampire… at least it was quick).

Xander’s own changes saw Darla’s version of amusement being the still somewhat human Consort being stimulated, bound then strapped down and prevented from touching or tasting their Mate for hours to days at a time – with no more purpose than to be torture most painful for both Will (who was likewise brought to heightened need then restrained) , and Consort. And if she was in a particularly nasty mood both would be entered, Angelus and Dru being ordered to force matching glass dildos chilled in ice into the forcibly stilled figures, just to watch them squirm whilst she supped.

Dear Wil always suffered most when they were chilled. But both knew to endure the torture with stoic silence, not willing to give the Grande Dame of Aurelia any edge. 

As a consequence there seemed to be more beatings, and more nights of Xander lying, licking his dear partner’s wounds whilst wincing with torn ankles from ill fitted restraints or chafe marks on his neck where his collar had been tethered too tight.

Will always seemed to be gagged and bound far tighter than he when such ‘entertainment’ occurred and inevitable made it up to his Consort as soon as he was able.  
Angelus usually releasing him for a short ‘care visit’ on the two nights a week Darla went for a ‘Girls’ night out’ hunting with Dru.

Darla was not silly enough to risk dusting William – or murdering his mate – there was still kudos to be had from the pair, certainly in the demon world, but also in the realm of human as their pretty, devoted pairing attracted the ‘right’ sort of attention in certain circles.

In a way Xander found the ventures into high society and the ‘men’s clubs’ almost worse than private torture. For Will it was familiar territory, both as human and vampire - the old boy jokes, brief disparaging discussions regards this or that government minister, or decision by captain of industry followed by grunt of agreement or laughter. Spike seemed all too comfortable with where to sit, when to be silent, who to speak to, but for Xander it was positively foreign in the beginning and in many ways still terrified him.

Will would dress him up in formal attire and have him ‘admitted as a special foreign friend’ one or other club where Angelus had ‘paved the way’ to having them admitted as members with the identity of some oft (now permanently) absent patron. Even if Angelus was with them the pattern was the same, they would play billiards, smoke cigars, read the paper and have ‘a snifter or two’. More often than not Angelus and Will would surreptitiously skim from the help or take quietly from one of the sleeping patrons in a dark corner, leaving them a pint or so of blood lighter and with memories of a most erotic dream.

There was also the Turkish Baths and a few Demon ‘Clubs’ where gender seemed either obscure, optional or positively not an impediment to any sort of activity. In a way, once the other clientele melted into the background, and Will’s semi nude (by now) form rubbed against him, he really enjoyed the demon clubs more. A thought that concerned him on more than one occasion but one that was stolen when his wicked Master Vampire claimed his lips again and led him into a quiet corner where prying eyes would not see their partnering.

Strangely, as much as his own situation, his life in the realm of darkness and vampires worried him, in an odd sort of way, to the inner Scoobie, the gentle boy from California it was nothing compared to the misery he saw around him.

A decade from the turn of the twentieth century and one but had to turn down an alley or two to find poverty, hardship and child labor. It was a period where they papers were filled with the war in South Africa; the latest steam ship record across the Atlantic; the King’s visit to the Kaiser; comments on women and the vote; and reports on the opulence of ‘Mother’ Russia’s Czar and family. And yet there was starvation and desperation down filthy streets, and influenza, whooping cough, diphtheria and general infections claimed the lives of uncounted numbers.

Xander now knew that death at the fangs of a vampire was perhaps a best case scenario for many and wondered why Sunnydale was noted as a Hellmouth, surely there were many worse places in the world, with or without demons. Something he realized belatedly he now had to call himself.

……………………….. 

The weekend following Giles’ departure, Xander visited his parents on several occasions. twice by himself and once with Spike, and was still surprised at the ease with which Spike was accepted. 

The vampire’s passion for literature, general knowledge (born of a life over one hundred and fifty years long), and his stunning looks and charm, saw both Xander’s parents inviting the couple to celebrate his father’s fifty first birthday a month or so hence. 

Spike felt Xander’s anxiety as he was informed that there were to be other guests: his mother’s best friend – the nosey Colleen; his Uncle Rory ‘and friend’; neighbors Sonya and Dean – always up for a free feed and beer; plus a number of his parents’ respective work colleagues. There would be questions, Spike knew Xander was worried, and that the newly returned, changed, ‘ex-Scoobie and son’ was still adjusting to… everything.

In the end the Consort convinced Spike to let him meet his mother ‘for coffee’ at a small shop in Sunnydale late afternoon the day before the event. It didn’t start well when he ordered Earl Grey tea and extra boiling water. 

His mother stared at a polite, fit, handsome adult male, a son she was only just beginning to become reacquainted with.

Xander led the older brunette to one of the ‘lounge’ booths. 

“Do you mind if we…?” He noted his mother nervously fiddling with her bag, “Mom relax! This is my treat, OK?”

He hadn’t noticed the grey streaks through her hair or the worry lines on their first few visits, but in the waning sunshine, beaming through the café windows, he saw them clearly. 

As they sat he reached over and took her hand, “Mom… seriously, I just wanted to treat you… and ask you if it is really OK about me coming to Dad’s thing next month – I know you asked but – you know… I’m only just back and… I won’t come without Will, and I know he said he’s cool about the not coming… but I’m not. I’d really rather spend time with just us if it it’s going to make the whole thing less stressful… you know, rather than playing happy families for the sake of people I don’t know any more.”

Resolute brown eyes met her son’s chocolate, just barely holding back the gold. 

“We want you and Will there, Xander. Your father wants you *and Will* there. Nothing will be said, but we have quietly told our dear friends the Johnsons and your father’s boss Peter about some of the horrors you experienced while you were away and no one else will ever know – it’s just that they were so supportive when we were… We felt they should know – at least you can be comfortable around them! Just… be discrete about the… other… can you? Your father is more than happy to acknowledge Will as his guest and your friend and rescuer… but the other… Well you know what I mean.”

Xander could not help but think that his parents really had no idea what horrors he had seen or the changes that had really had occurred, and stemmed the temptation of letting his small fangs descend.

In the end he agreed to go, asked what an appropriate present might be – to which the answer was a predictable ‘just you being there is enough’, and the afternoon ended relatively happily – even though Xander had hinted that he and William planned to return to Europe in the next month or two. 

His mother instantly became rather teary and suggested with a begging look that perhaps they might just move to San Francisco since they seemed comfortable to accept ”your… type of partnership.” 

At that Xander had smiled taken her hand and said, “I’m not running away Mom – and just think? One year here, then the next you’ll get to convince Dad to come visit the south of France.”

“Oh for goodness sake – he’s never even been to Mexico!” She then switched to concerned mother mode, “Anyway what will you do? What will you live on? You’re both already so thin! Are you on some sort of no carb diet… what?”

Xander grinned at the last statement, “No fear of giving up pizzas or chocolate! Anyway, S…William has money… ‘Old’ money and… we’ll be fine Mom… really.”

Three days later Master and Mated Consort had booked a night flight to New York (with rather basic accommodation at the airport for the daylight sojourn). 

A month later Xander had packed the few things he really treasured from his previous life into a small box, Spike had raided his crypt for ‘things’… and they were ready. 

Willow had promised to visit sooner rather than later (and the coven was awaiting her return) before she hugged her old friend *very* hard then let tears fall, to which Xander simply said, “Oh Please Willow… don’t.” They stood for many minutes, a simple embrace that said everything.

Dawn hugged them both and made Spike *promise* to send her news (and items) from London’s fashion houses. 

Buffy bypassed Spike and made very short work of the hug with Xander. He felt her shudder as she hugged him whilst saying in a strange string of babble before releasing, “You really do feel like a vampire now. And I’m still a bit confused about all the… back in time stuff. But… thanks… for your help… when… well you know, before you went away. And take care.”

Their bags were packed but there still was a party to attend.

……

In the end it was logical really. William was the least known of all the guests and a natural orator. He stepped up of his own accord, winking at Xander as he took the microphone. His baritone, cultured ‘BBC’ English, drew everyone’s attention ringing out over the jerry rigged PA, and the crowd fell silent.

With the most minimal of written prompts shoved into his hand at the last moment, Xander looked on with amazement and love as his mate took on the role of MC – vampires… ever the superb actors!

Will, Xander’s all, swiftly took the proceedings in hand, invited various appropriate people to speak; regaled and feted the guest of honour to the friendly (all knowing) crowd with stories ‘supplied’; joked easily with a couple of rather inebriated hecklers; and invoke the traditional “Happy Birthday” as the cake was presented, then finally standing back as others called the chant “Speech, Speech!!!”

Tony thanked his wife and son and all attending, for their thoughts and good wishes, then named the most precious present he had been given this birthday, his son’s return. In front of everyone he then thanked Will but not just for the MC-ing on the night, but also for … his son’s safe return, then to everyone’s surprise, wished the Englishman Will and Xander happiness together. An emotional father then embraced a lost son publicly followed by opening the hug to his son’s partner and wife.

There was rather stunned silence then someone began to clap and finally the party goers roared their approval and raised their glasses – though in truth some were still unsure of just what they were toasting.

Xander and William’s present was delivered in private the following day, the evening of their departure with strict instructions that it was to be opened after they drove away. 

Tony was already a little emotional, and his wife still in tears as they opened the large, carefully wrapped box to reveal an extraordinary set of silver chalices. The note read 

“With Many Happy Returns Love Xander and William 

*We* want you to have these. Feel free to sell them to a reputable collector FYI the insured price (now in your name) is $45,000 US but Will thinks add 20% to that as a reserve ;-)

See you in France or England in the new year.

With our love X & W. 

PS papers for legitimacy and valuing are at the bottom.”

On the birthday night the boys had delivered flowers, but this? Tony looked to his wife who winked and said, “Shopping in Europe – start saving!”

They both smiled and hugged as they re read Xander’s rather scrappy hand writing – some things didn’t change.

And Xander and Will were on their way 'home'.  
PART 11

The two very handsome men wandered out of the ‘green’ door at Heathrow to be greeted by an older gent in a very thick tweed coat and scarf.

The greeting was done with a firm handshake for both then an almost predictable, “Right well… I trust your trip was satisfactory… Thank you for the call from New York, I had been a little concerned regards times.” Giles then pointed the way and Xander pushed the luggage trolley toward the sliding doors and out into a rather bleak evening of driving rain. 

“My apologies… the weather seems to have had a bit of a turn for the worse.”

To which Spike winked at his Consort then replied, “What? You an’ your witchy lot not on top of orderin’ that sorta thing yet?” before rolling his eyes and adding, “Looks like we’re gonna just have ta’ stay in during the day Pet… What *will* we think to do???!!” 

To which Giles swiftly tugged off his glasses and began to rub them furiously whilst trying desperately to remember which level he had parked on. “Yes… well… weather control is a little beyond the coven… I am surprised you’re not staying with us just while you get established again?”

Xander seemed happy to let his partner do the talking – besides which he was so close to laughing aloud after the next comment that he almost choked, “Oh come on Rupert?! All that estrogen, surprised you didn’t meet us with yer purple and green suffragette kit on.”

Giles all but threw his glasses back on and huffed rather resignedly, “Yes well every job does have a few drawbacks.”

“Was only kiddin’ mate, yer a right champion fer masculinity Ripper an’ boy and me here well thankful for the welcoming committee…” Spike then fell silent and shoved his hands further into the pockets of his leather duster as they entered the lift turned and, like their fellow travelers, stared at the door as they started to move.

Third floor and the conversation began again as Spike said rather gently, “ ‘Preciate the lift mate… You need directions? Red said a bunch of roads ’ve been changed since I was here last…”

Giles was more worried about which row the car was in, so rather distractedly mumbled, “I should be fine… I am well versed in the nicer parts of Surrey Spike…”

“Just didn’t want you goin’ on the cooks tour.”

A rather relieved Giles led them to the coven’s four wheel drive and as he piled their bags into the back, sighed, “I assure you Spike, Xander, there was no chance of that… now please! Let’s just leave, before I have to pay another half hour for parking in this dreadful place.”

In the end it was Spike who paid for the parking, there was no misdirection, and after the car pulled up in the rather grand driveway and the group alighted, it was Xander who ushered their old friend into a space the Mated Consort had not seen for… a few days… but Spike… for many decades.

The lights still used the same brass switch… in its time, state of the art. It revealed a rather grand, recently refurbished entrance hall, wide staircase and open doors to a sitting room with roaring fire.

Giles was rather taken aback by the opulence, Spike whispered under his breath, “Finally! Thank you Angelus” and Xander closed his eyes and remembered. The house had *always* been ‘their place’.  
PART 11

The two very handsome men wandered out of the ‘green’ door at Heathrow to be greeted by an older gent in a very thick tweed coat and scarf.

The greeting was done with a firm handshake for both then an almost predictable, “Right well… I trust your trip was satisfactory… Thank you for the call from New York, I had been a little concerned regards times.” Giles then pointed the way and Xander pushed the luggage trolley toward the sliding doors and out into a rather bleak evening of driving rain. 

“My apologies… the weather seems to have had a bit of a turn for the worse.”

To which Spike winked at his Consort then replied, “What? You an’ your witchy lot not on top of orderin’ that sorta thing yet?” before rolling his eyes and adding, “Looks like we’re gonna just have ta’ stay in during the day Pet… What *will* we think to do???!!” 

To which Giles swiftly tugged off his glasses and began to rub them furiously whilst trying desperately to remember which level he had parked on. “Yes… well… weather control is a little beyond the coven… I am surprised you’re not staying with us just while you get established again?”

Xander seemed happy to let his partner do the talking – besides which he was so close to laughing aloud after the next comment that he almost choked, “Oh come on Rupert?! All that estrogen, surprised you didn’t meet us with yer purple and green suffragette kit on.”

Giles all but threw his glasses back on and huffed rather resignedly, “Yes well every job does have a few drawbacks.”

“Was only kiddin’ mate, yer a right champion fer masculinity Ripper an’ boy and me here well thankful for the welcoming committee…” Spike then fell silent and shoved his hands further into the pockets of his leather duster as they entered the lift turned and, like their fellow travelers, stared at the door as they started to move.

Third floor and the conversation began again as Spike said rather gently, “ ‘Preciate the lift mate… You need directions? Red said a bunch of roads ’ve been changed since I was here last…”

Giles was more worried about which row the car was in, so rather distractedly mumbled, “I should be fine… I am well versed in the nicer parts of Surrey Spike…”

“Just didn’t want you goin’ on the cooks tour.”

A rather relieved Giles led them to the coven’s four wheel drive and as he piled their bags into the back, sighed, “I assure you Spike, Xander, there was no chance of that… now please! Let’s just leave, before I have to pay another half hour for parking in this dreadful place.”

In the end it was Spike who paid for the parking, there was no misdirection, and after the car pulled up in the rather grand driveway and the group alighted, it was Xander who ushered their old friend into a space the Mated Consort had not seen for… a few days… but Spike… for many decades.

The lights still used the same brass switch… in its time, state of the art. It revealed a rather grand, recently refurbished entrance hall, wide staircase and open doors to a sitting room with roaring fire.

Giles was rather taken aback by the opulence, Spike whispered under his breath, “Finally! Thank you Angelus” and Xander closed his eyes and remembered. The house had *always* been ‘their place’.  
………………..

 

Angelus had arranged it… *finally*. Or strictly speaking was very over Darla’s vindictive behavior toward all her ‘offspring’ and the household generally. 

 

After almost three months of torture at Darla’s hands William’s pleas were finally heard, Angelus conceded that his GrandeChilde and Consort should have a ‘safe house’, one with a basement properly equipped for when Dru was being… difficult, or the Matron of the Aurelian line wanted her Angelus to play with alone.

Later it might be argued that the house was actually earned as a reward from its previous owners by William the Bloody and Consort, rather than ‘given as gift’ by the GrandSire, but that was almost irrelevant – the fact that Angelus endorsed that the two (and sometimes his Childe) had a safe haven away from Darla was *everything*.

The earning had been oddly easy. Will was on the prowl and for ‘Darla reasons’ Xander was with him. She had decided that sending a Mated human to a multi demon clan annual ‘coming out party’ might be vaguely amusing – particularly as many demons didn’t hold the stupid boy’s status in such high esteem, and she might well be rid of him *and* the pathetic William at the same time. Angelus still seemed obsessed with the boy, despite her fine efforts at beating it out of all of them. Sometimes she really did kick herself for ever turning the roguish Irishman… but then he would be all crafty and killing and then fighting and f#@king... So really… who could resist!

Things had gone rather well, Angelus and Darla there for the first part. Dru was having one of her ‘moments’ so had been chained and gagged in the cellar with her collection of dolls around her for comfort, and two of their strongest minions ready to subdue her again should she escape. Rampage was one thing – but not in the middle of London in the summer social season! Even Darla drew the line at that.

The senior Aurelians had departed, Angelus having just made a rather lucrative deal with a Crent’ath demon family were wealthy – very wealthy – they dealt in diamonds and were quite enthralled by the Aurelian family’s European connections. They had the mines in South Africa and traded into England but Angelus had the contacts in Brussels, Madrid, Amsterdam and Paris, plus some in St Petersburg – though the Russians had their own mines. 

Darla was bored by the ‘business talk’ and insisted they leave to go hunting the instant a handshake agreement was reached. It left William and Xander at the party alone – just as Darla had planned.

What she didn’t plan was the ruckus that erupted shortly after midnight, nor her disappointment of a great grand childe and his pathetic mated plaything ‘saving the day’ yet again. Their heroics this time involved the children of the Crent’aths, two pretty twin girls – who but for prehensile tails and slightly pointed ears, could pass for human – indeed did on most days in their father’s exclusive inner London landmark diamond shop. They were careful to coiffeur and couture appropriately, were elegant and well spoken, and at eighteen, considered ‘quite the catch’ in both demon and (oblivious) human circles.

When the fight broke out, fate had it that the girls were both dancing with Xander and William. The inner white night and gentleman (respectively) emerged and the young women/demons were ushered behind their dance partners.

Apparently the fight was directly related to their father’s trading with humans, and their terrified sobbing mother was being held fast by several vampires forced to watch while their dear father had the rear horn on his head (usually concealed under a hat) torn from its moorings before being kicked unconscious to the chant, “Human lover, human lover!” and “Trade with the warm bloods who kill us… traitor.”

When the mob turned to the girls with a “Oh look it’s the Aurelian whimp, GrandSire’s not around boy!” William whispered, “I’ll take the seven on the right, you take the four on the left and keep the girls safe. ‘s ain’t gonna be pretty.” Then he gave Xander the most excited feral grin and launched himself at the assailants.

The girls huddled down in a corner behind their two protectors and watched as Xander let his fangs drop and his training and fully Mated status kick in.

The ensuing skirmish was fast and furious. Xander pulling out his concealed knives with familiar ease and used them with deadly precision. William’s mouth was bloodied as he dropped his fourth victim then roared and launched himself at a fifth who was advancing on one of the twins.

The end result was dusty… and gooey… depending on the species and established the two Aurelians as outright victors – in more ways than one. 

Evan Crent’ath’s horn was a permanent casualty but all other injuries healed in time, and on the night, Master Vampire William and Mate Xander had their Spanish reputations endorsed wholeheartedly by all witnessing the event. 

Unbeknownst to any of the Aurelians at the time, the two girls had close to a million pounds in diamonds stitched into each of their corsets, a precaution if something happened to their parents. As a direct result of the safety of their daughters and the treasure, Evan and his wife were more than happy to negotiate a ‘reward’ and pact of understanding with Angelus (and William) post evening.

A pledge from the Crent’aths resulted in the promise of a two hundred year ‘free of encumbrances’ lease of one of their country homes so that William and his Consort might use and enjoy – and that the Crent’ath family might utilize the same in the balmy summers of southern England. 

It was William’s first family home since Darla had insisted on selling his after the ‘demise’ of his mother (and annexing the profits of the same for the general Aurelian coffers!)

It had always been up to Angelus to create minions in the past, but as Will was now a ‘Master’ of his own household, with territory that was happily negotiated with the local vampire clan (who considered having the ‘Aurelians on the block’ a distinct advantage), he needed to establish his own group of minions.

Xander had never taken much notice of the process before, and to Angelus it was made very apparent that all were mere cannon fodder or whores for the using, but for his Mated Master the selection seemed far more discerning. They traveled half way across London to find an elderly cook Agnes Beckett– in ill health and merely a kitchen hand, cleaning and peeling vegetables for a gentleman’s club. She was too stunned to speak as William greeted her and turned her one evening, and Xander reaped the benefit. She had been William’s family’s cook – loyal to the end but when the Mistress died, there was nothing for her. Now she was devoted to the Master and his Mate, stepping up to the task with pride and dedication.

Various other members of their minion in their small household were similarly carefully selected. Xander literally tripped over a young woman cradling a dead young child in a back alley as he and William made their way through the shadows to an early evening show in the West End. William relieved the grief stricken vagabond of her putrid bundle then commissioned a carriage, turned her and had her unconscious form delivered to their home with instructions that Mrs Beckett should clean her up. 

Young and inexperienced as she was, Mavis Smith, still proved an astute and tough manager of their household, feared by all the male minions – particularly Percy, a rather insipid chap that William had turned to become their downstairs footman. Percy had been a school ‘chum’ of William’s – or rather the weasel like bully that made William’s life a misery on a daily basis. William had never been more pleased to ‘find’ Percy in one of London’s better know brothels, enjoying the company of a larger gent that Will thought he recognized from the gentleman’s club. He knocked out the partner and turned Percy with a minimum of blood, the man’s true simpering nature perfect for the position of servitude.

Other roles were filled as needed. Body guard, cook’s assistant, laundry maid, driver. All were chosen carefully and none suffered other than when they earned punishment.

The home was (as a consequence) always immaculate, the garden lovingly tended and always full of bulbs, strawberries and raspberries for ‘the Master’ and jasmine that bloomed at night. Their life there was oddly… happy.

…………………..

The Aurelians and Crent’aths had always maintained the Surrey home – indeed, since Dru and William left Europe in the nineteen seventies, two of the Evan Crent’ath great grandsons (and family) had been in residence and in the last four months (with an injection of Aurelian funds) had done up the mansion to pristine condition, and added a number of new features including a refurbished garage, pretty glasshouse with roof that opened to the sky and hot tub.

Percy had long been dust, instead it was Adrian Crent’ath who answered the door, and welcomed old friends home. Within seconds of walking into the entry hall, a buxom woman dressed in a smart chef’s uniform and a pretty woman dressed in a smart suit as though a concierge in an expensive hotel flew into the room, skidding to a halt at the door and to Giles’ immense surprise, bared their necks to “Master William, Consort Xander! Welcome… oh after all this time *welcome*… Please take of us!” 

Spike bared his fangs and took what was his – after more than fifty years dear Ms Beckett sobbed and let all protocol fall away as she desperately grabbed for the Consort’s hand and whispered, “Oh Masters you are home! You’re home!”  
PART 12

Giles was politely introduced to Adrian Crent’ath and the staff before being ushered into an elegant drawing room complete with antique furniture and exquisite art and the most delicate of tea services.

While they settled, Ms Smith fussed near silently at the door, hurrying the new downstairs ‘man’ Leon to his waiting duties, adjusting his bow tie to straight (again) before he entered and whispering, “This is Master William and Consort!… The human is the Ex-watcher and mage Rupert Giles, a friend of the household… Now remember! Polite, calm and perfect, or there will be no blood for a week!”

The tall thin Leon nodded, hoped his tray would remain steady, given the amount he seemed to be shaking in the presence of such a powerful Master Vampire, but did admirably, served the tea, offered petit fours, and managed to rescue a napkin that fell from Mister Giles’ lap before it hit the ground – garnering a polite and genuine ‘thank you’ from the human. Leon waited in the corner then noted empty cups and knew to offer a second round of tea, but was waved away by Master Adrian. At that he felt he had failed somehow, but collected the crockery and other items from the table as silently and efficiently as he could and wondered if he would be given sustenance himself that night… Had he done something to cause the Masters to lose their thirst?

Tray stacked high, Xander saw the almost disguised look of someone, vampire or no, in distress because of work. He sent love and trust through his Consort link, and Spike/Master William sent back the same. So before Leon had a chance to disappear, Xander had subtly nodded at Master William as the minion collected the consort’s cup. He touched Leon on the arm and whispered, “You’ve done a great job… thanks.” The ten year turned minion nearly tripped as he felt the power of Master Spike’s Consort’s touch… Mrs Bennett had told him stories… but as if… and to be thanked as well?!

Mavis said nothing as the rather overwhelmed footman-come-waiter passed her in a daze and disappeared into the kitchen, a crimson tear of sheer happiness very obvious as Leon tried to keep all the cups and saucers steadier than his hand seemed to want to allow. The Master’s consort had thanked him… *thanked* *him*!

Giles missed the exchange, completely engaged by Spike’s apparent changes. 

The Watcher knew William the Bloody from the texts… and the changed texts as it happened… and from personal experience… but this… *now*… Master William was obviously in his own domain… regardless of soul or (Giles still assumed) chip. 

Spike and his Consort had returned and William’s Grandsire had even agreed to renew their link, and now Master William slipped observably easily into his Lord of the Manor persona. He was very obviously quietly powerful and very much in control, and Giles was in awe. How *could* they have interpreted this creature, this member of vampire royalty, as some pathetic being to be shackled and suppressed. 

Under his breath he muttered, “Injuring then hooding an Eagle before locking it in an aviary that would see it dead; muzzling the alpha male of a wolf pack and trying to train it to heel through cruel ‘lessons’; milking the bile of a moon bear for…” He didn’t realize his voice has risen enough to be heard by all in the room – including Xander… “My G$#d Spike… I’m… ” 

Spike had watched the conflict of emotions run across the ex-Watcher’s face, “Ahhh… Don’t get your Y-fronts all tangled Ripper… Didn’t dust me… give ya credit fer that – and the Initiative gave it a better go than the bloody Germans.”

Adrian raised his glass to the comment, with a “Oh yes GrandMamma told me that one – bloody Nazis! And your poor Sire here for all those months! Still at least you knew she was well fed and cared for… and no fear of the sun… GrandMamma even made her some dolls clothes – hand stitched – just to keep her entertained. And there was an old phonograph that she wound and wound apparently… until you came for her. Wonderful story.” Adrian grinned across at Spike then suddenly sobered, “Oh I *am* sorry. My apologies Master Spike. It’s just… such a thrill… and the wine… Please…” He looked desperately toward Ms Smith before receiving a curt nod. “The sun is down and we had the garden lit by some landscape professionals less than a month ago… would you like to…” 

The gesture was a welcome relief and Adrian led the small group out onto the rear patio. 

Manicured lawns, well pruned trees, mass plantings of small shrubs and flowers, well planned ‘dry and water features’ designed to draw the eye, as well as various paths and pergolas and seating nooks graced the near three acres in a carefully crafted display of light and shadows with a backdrop of darkness. Tiny fairy lights were wound around certain trees and made structures; spotlights featured a branch or sculpture here and there; and the underwater lighting in the water features had light dancing on strategically placed walls in the most exquisite fashion. There was a tennis court in the far left corner and a classic looking pool surrounded by natural flat rock pavers and spa closer to the house 

Master William was heard to take a breath and observed to grasp his Consort’s hand (offered) was taken as though a lifeline. But it was Xander who articulated the emotion of the moment, “Wow! It’s… it’s just beautiful!” 

Adrian beamed, “Yes well we took inspiration from the original garden and added a few touches. I had rather hoped the Master – and of course you - would like it, I was quite happy to put the family money toward it – we do so enjoy it here… But it’s so much better with the Master home! Of course we are ever so grateful for the recent injection of funds, but I do rather think it is all worth it… Master?” 

Adrian looked over to see the Aurelian Master Vampire fighting to hold back his game face. “Is there...? Can I…? Oh Master… but I thought…”

Xander wrapped his arms around Spike’s waist and spooned him from the back in an act that grounded his Mate and William was able to reply in a rather emotional tone, “’S all fine mate, perfect even… Just never thought I’d see this place again… Not as we are now… not like this… Done your lot and us proud… But then a job worth doin’ and all that… Reckon that’s somethin’… wish you’re Nan coulda seen this… she’d a been right chuffed.” 

Spike cleared his throat… “Anyway… Ol’ Watcher here’s a mite fascinated by our connection – care to show your stuff (no pressure mind!)” Mood broken Spike winked and Adrian grinned then shook and relaxed.

Giles had all but forgotten that the thirty something, handsome male, who’s dark refined looks bespoke of aristocracy and the maharajas (and would have seen him an instant hit in Bollywood), was a demon by birth. By Master William’s invitation Adrian breathed a sigh of relief as he let his real form emerge. Instantly dark and light tiger stripes emerged all over his skin, and long, thin, strawberry blonde spines push through his brown black ‘trendy corporate cut’ near black hair, cascading over his shoulders and down his back. The lashes may have been longer but Adrian’s black eyes didn’t change – though as he turned and gave a shy rather than self assured smile to their Watcher guest, Giles fancied he saw them flash green more than once and barely suppressed a gasp of surprise. A well concealed prehensile tail was the last to emerge as striped hands unfastened blind zip at the back of the fashionably tailored linen pants and released the appendage. At that the elderly Watcher could not suppress the “Oh Good Lord!... I’m… I’m… Good Lord”.

Spike pulled from Xander and rounded on Adrian before the young Crent’ath lost his nerve in front of a *Watcher*, throwing a manly arm across the pretty demon’s shoulder. “Boy here is from an upright citizen from the pure line of Crent’ath traceable back a thousand or more years; ‘n from what I’ve heard is a mighty fine businessman… ‘is family ‘interests’ been in Europe since day dot… They’ve never needed to go public in the business sense o’ course! Why bother with branches in Prague, Paris, Brussels and Venice and all the big centers run by cousins and siblings… Had to move around a bit after bloody Hitler started on ‘is crusade, still, since the iron curtain raising – well the last fifteen… twenty years have been a treat. Increased profits tenfold I hear with *this* man the leadin’ the corporate charge, ain’t that right mate.”

Spike winked at the young man whose stripes visibly darkened and Adrian, who was now feeling rather ‘exposed’, initially dropped his gaze as a young child might but then lifted his chin, smiled and nodded. The fact that the Master Aurelian had asked him to relax and change, then spoke of him and his family in such glowing terms in the presence of others found his tail moving almost of its own volition to grip the Master’s ankle and squeeze just a little in gracious thanks, as was custom and good Crent’ath manners.

Xander noted that it wasn’t only Adrian who was somewhat emotional and after Spike squeezed their host’s shoulder a last time and the tail released, he knew what Spike needed so held up his wrist to his Mated vampire.

With but one mouthful of his consort’s blood, the true Master of the House, Spike turned to Adrian with a smile, “Now food and a place to sleep – I reckon you’ve sorted it … shall we?”

Giles declined dinner but graciously accepted the ample ‘care package’ of sandwiches, fresh fruit, petit fours and flask of hot tea hastily prepared by Mrs Beckett.

The farewell at the car was brief.

“Well… um… I’ll report your good health to Willow and I’m sure the message will be passed on.” Spike held out his hand, the gesture accepted (Giles later realizing that the hand had been warm and that the reason was no doubt due to it having been in direct contact with Xander’s) “Taa mate… be sure an’ tell the bit to come visit sometime soon yeah?”

“Indeed…” Despite the car door already being open, Giles accepted Xander’s hand next, then pulled the man into a hug. 

“I’ve no idea who you are any more do I? But… please take care of yourself… my dear boy…” There was a pause then a manly pat before the two released and the old watcher was seen to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand before starting the engine of the compact Volkswagon and drove off.

Master and Consort turned back toward the house, both quietly contemplating how quickly their lives had turned yet again, and as Master William took his Consort’s hand and squeezed gently both remembered the very first time they *really needed* their haven and walked hand in hand up the gravel driveway to sanctuary and mutual consolation.

……………..

It had been a hard two weeks since Angelus had approved their new residence, but the Aurelian High Master was in town for the first time in a hundred plus years and Darla was ecstatic, insisting that the family be ‘up front and central’.

Xander had been briefed on the implications of being formally presented to the Master – something that usually involved the Master demanding that the *human* be bitten savagely then mounted by his vampire in front of half the court. 

Uncharacteristically, Angelus had warned them both of the Master’s varying tastes, advising preparing not just Xander, but also William. The young vampire’s Sire by proxy, making his own experience with *the* Aurelian Master *very* clear. It was a warning heeded, and post event… gratefully so.

As the two approached the High Master’s ‘throne’ both William and Consort bowed low. Xander could see Darla and Angelus amongst the crowd, Drusilla no doubt restrained in her room so as not to ‘compromise’ proceedings – the Master never quite comfortable if she happened to begin to rant.

So no the Master grinned hungrily, “Ohhh how delicious – would that I could still bend that far… And how delightful that you brought your *toy*… and yes yes I have heard the rumors… but really! Nothing is as it seems until it is proven… Not in my Court anyway!

“William! Show proper respect… I know my darling Darla has taught you that at least! Present yourself in front of your Lord and Master!”

Xander felt the jolt of anguish through their link but remained stationary as William stood, walked forward and knelt in a fully down presentation, head on the ground and backside skyward, his rear wide open to the Master.

“Angelus! This is your progeny by proxy… now come… Surely you are not averse to indulging your taste for boys with your pretty ‘family’?!” The mirthless laugh said it all and both Angel and William shored up their defenses ready for the worst.

Xander, Mate and Consort, felt William’s hurt but knew not to move. The Mated human knew that William had been serviced by his GrandSire before, and knew to watch, apparently inanimate, as Angelus stripped his Grandchilde with emotionless efficiency, forced him to the floor and began to undress himself until the Master commanded “*Stop!* I’ve changed my mind… Have him service you by mouth… Here…”

The permanently game faced Aurelian Master moved faster than even the vampires in the room could see, grabbed William’s hair and literally pulled him forward until his mouth was on Angelus’ now exposed – and still rather flaccid – penis. As soon as lips touched skin the Master hissed, “It seems your Grandsire is struggling to perform… I do hope you have the skills to provide me with a decent warm up act. The consequences of failure are somewhat deadly, you see…” 

William knew instinctively that the Master was talking about his mated Consort, so took Angelus’ member in his mouth and sucked and swallowed as only one not needing to breathe might. For his part Angelus didn’t move but for a hand on his Grandchilde’s neck just over the turning mark. Unseen by his audience he stroked the mark gently – it was the only solace he was able to provide without being seen. They had done this before, but *never* forced and *never* with the entire Court as witness. 

Just as Angelus’ felt the start of climax, the mouth disappeared and a cold iron like set of fingers clamped around the base of his erection, cutting off all hope of completion and causing not a small amount of pain. The Master hissed, “Enough…” then shoved him unceremoniously backwards. Angelus forced to ‘tidy himself up’ without conclusion. 

William was still on his knees, lips slightly swollen and nose a little red from contact with Angelus coarse pubic hair. He made to stand but was given the sharp instruction, “Stay down *pup* we’re not finished the entertainment yet…” 

William wondered if he was to be the entrée for however many minions the Master allowed to breach him, or whether the Master himself wanted to… he had heard what had happened to Angelus the first time and began to hope it was the former not the latter. He consoled himself that at least Xander had escaped the Master’s notice, until the dreaded announcement, “Now where’s that human of yours? Hmm? Come here… don’t be shy…” 

William knew the Master could and would kill his Consort without second thought and sent all the love he could muster in the circumstances through their emotional link.

Xander stepped forward, then dropped to his knees in the Master’s presence as he had been instructed to do. ‘Old bat features’ gave a feral grin toward Darla, who appeared pleased with proceedings thus far.

“A mildly amusing show! But then I would expect nothing less from the apple of my eye… Darla my darkest angel – come observe – the product of the deranged one seems to have learned one or two things under your tutelage… how touching. I do hope his *Mate* has been similarly schooled as I am quite inclined for a proper show.”

Xander had assumed it would be him that was breached, but it seemed that the Master had other ideas. “William – present yourself to your *chosen* human.” The word dripped with venom. Xander paled. He had thought as he knelt in front of the Master, that it might have been worse had the pair not made passionate love earlier (Xander still ‘slick’ from the encounter) but now it appeared that it was not him being entered. 

William was on hands and knees in front of him. The Master glared at Xander, “Well??? I’m on a schedule here! You stupid dolt! *F#$%* him*! Now! Come human, Consort… He openly begs for your attentions, *surely* you would not fail your young Master in front of family!” The last statement dripped with such venom that Xander feared for them both. If he failed in some fashion, their lives (or unlives) would be forfeit.

Xander had no choice and no lubricant. He wished he could apologize William but had no opportunity, so did the only thing he could as he shuffled forward and into position. 

Xander’s hands had been behind his back as was custom in a formal kneel. With two fingers he did his best to collect some of the lubricant from his own opening without being seen and as he now took the sweet round buttocks in his hands, he smeared as much across the opening as he might and the rest down his own erection as he held and angled it toward the target. It was still not be enough to make for a smooth entrance – but it was something.

Xander could see Angelus’ eyes glaze over, looking but not seeing, protocol dictating that he watch a scene the much feared dark vampire wished was not happening. Xander had heard enough to know that Angelus had nothing but loathing for his Grandsire, and that debasement of this variety was the mere tip of the iceberg for ‘old bat face’ who was more often than not, happy to participate and by all accounts, *literally* hung like a horse! 

Darla grinned and clapped at the public humiliation of the two on display, and audibly whooped as William fell into game face and traces of blood were scented after two or three thrusts by his Consort.

Xander tried to block out their surroundings and hold back his tears. Despite trying to be careful he felt William’s passage give a little and saw the blood. His erection was all but lost at that point, but William pushed back, knowing this was their only way of surviving the encounter with the Master. Xander felt the press back and gave his failing erection a couple of hardness renewing strokes then pressed back in, this time determined to find and work William’s prostate.

The Master pulled Darla to him as he watched the two male figures move together. She lifted her skirts and sank onto him with all the knowledge and practice of her three hundred and fifty plus years. Even for Darla the Master was long and large, but the reward, her Sire biting her, being happy with her… it was all worth it.

The Master was ecstatic at his Childe’s wanton display but still had the wherewithal to control the amorous display he had ordered centre stage.

“Angelus! Make yourself useful! Your Grandchilde looks hungry… *feed* him with that you would have filled my dear Childe with.”

Angelus’ erection was no more, but he knew better than to defy the Master so moved over to William, knelt low, and fed his flaccid phallus into his Grandchilde’s mouth. 

William flashed begging blue eyes at his Grandsire, but they both knew. Angelus touched Xander’s hand, the Consort felt his Mate’s resigned sadness through their link and felt Angelus’ contrition and resignation through the quiet touch. This was about survival, not pleasure, and the message was understood. 

Their rhythm fell into synch and they slowly but surely found quiet completion, Xander even managing to slide a stroking hand under William to assist his coming… just as the Master pumped his dead seed into Darla, roared his own satisfaction and bit down hard into his favorite Childe’s neck.

‘The boys’ were dismissed mere seconds later… all restraints removed and clothing left behind to be discarded as the Master began his ‘second round’ with Darla. Post dismissal, the minions effectively left the three to their own devices. Angelus gave William a rueful look, curt nod then retreated to rescue Dru from her bindings and bring her some relief from her Sire while Darla was ‘otherwise occupied’.

William and his consort needed no further prompting. A nod from Angelus saw Xander half carry a distressed William to the carriage and the master order the return to their Surrey home.

That night Xander wished for the oblivion for both of them either that or being permanently baffled like Drusilla – because somehow debauchery and torture would work so much better in that situation. His William was a vampire, yes, but no more monster than a predator needing to kill for survival… 

The two nude males, vampire and Mate, alighted the carriage and were collected by the Josephine Crent’ath and her staff at the door. Wrapped in heavy blankets they were led to their private bathroom and provided a hot bath, fresh robes and a meal – both human and vampire.

Xander wanted to apologize and began as they sat together in the blissful warmth of the huge cast iron bath, only to be stopped by a cool hand and sad look.

“Please don’t Luv… Please!... Let’s just… Thank you for making it…”

“But you bled… I made you bleed! And I never… Oh Gh@#$ I’m…”

“T’was only a little pain… the rest was… Just… can we just…”

They adjourned to the huge bed that dominated the Master William’s rooms, lying intertwined, simply touching and kissing until both gave in to slumber.  
PART 13

Xander relaxed back against his partner. As usual his Master William had managed to wind himself around his Consort. Warmth and comfort… it had always been right – even in the very beginning … it was all about warmth and comfort.

They were in the ‘big bed’ – the mattress may have changed and the plush sheepskin undercover added a squishy luscious depth, but the view was the same. The evening had exhausted his dear vampire partner… in truth he worried. Despite the valiant show for the Crent’aths, Giles and the staff, Spike seemed so fragile, so… hurt… lost even… when they were alone together. It was as though the hundred years or so apart had all come crashing in and references to the Nazis and various snippets of the many hard times he *wasn’t* there for his William weighed heavily. If only… if only he hadn’t been pulled away! 

Why would the Powers do that?! They *must* have known… William was never the average demon… If only he had been there! And the demon trials?! Who had picked him up and cared for him after that?! From all accounts… no one! He deserved so much more than noone – for all those years! And with Dru in tow… then denying her own Childe… after all those years of no family yet managing to keep his insane Sire safe!

Xander sent a prayer for his vampire to any deity that might listen… a healing request for his lover… his all, then wrapped himself around his partner more tightly, began to stroke the pale arm, and let tears fall… tears for his lover, one for every year they had been denied each other… then sobs of regret, endearments, requests for forgiveness, and love, always love.

Spike, (though he felt very much like William right now), woke to his Consort’s tears, to the innate connection and the love and regret. He was being stroked and loved… stroked and loved and… His demon and soul agreed, his fangs dropped and he rolled his lover over, legs were instantly open and the invitation taken. 

He entered his Mate and bit down on the exposed neck at the same time. Xander sighed then bucked a little as his prostate was hit followed by the act being repeated. He too let small fangs drop and took back some of his Master vampire’s blood, instantly feeling the zing and the connection heightened. This was right, here in *their* rooms new memories mixed with wonderful old ones, and just as their blood and releases mixed, so did their tears Spike’s cool and Xander’s warm. 

Eventually, Xander lowered his legs from their position wrapped around Spike’s back and felt Spike’s soft member slip from him as the both rolled to their sides to kiss and stroke each other gently.

“Do you know where you were, Pet?”

It was a question out of left field and threw Xander, “Wha???”

“For all those years pet… do you know where you were? While I was lookin’ for you… missin’ you! So much… I *needed* you?!… ”

“I don’t… not really… I mean… I wasn’t… I don’t know?! Wil… I didn’t mean… Oh Gh@#... I don’t know! I didn’t choose to… *Please* sweetheart! I didn’t want to go! Why would I…” Xander had ceased his stroking with the surprise of the question and for the umpteenth time since arriving back – but the first time in *their* space… he began to panic.

Where *had* he gone? Even if the timeline had changed… still… where was his essence for over a hundred years. It was a philosopher’s dilemma, a theologian’s nightmare, dimensional shift theoretical physicist’s fascination, and a follower of the dark arts’ dream. But right here, right now, none of that mattered… and all Xander could do was hug his upset vampire to him and hold on. What if it happened again?! If he didn’t know why in the first place… it was a possibility… wasn’t another shift plausible?! He began to scour his memories but felt the discomfort in his sleeping friend, his mate, so tried to focused on memories… the happy memories of this place.

 

…………….

 

It was late on a Friday evening. As usual the Crent’ath family were out – this time at a ‘family do’ though it was often the ballet or opera – and consequently the house was quiet. It had been almost a month since the Master and Darla ‘show’ but the fallout was still occurring – not least of which was the desperate need isolate themselves from the Aurelian ‘Court’ and to touch each other, to share blood, to affirm. The house was their sanctuary.

Xander woke to the gentle strokes of a cool hand as William traced his features and needlessly explored physical lines on his Consort that were now known as well his own. Xander rolled slowly, took the wandering hand and kissed it thoroughly – then its owner. William’s ensuing, “Oh my… I’m sorry… I’m sorry… but I just…” then game-face was all it took for another round of lovemaking. 

In the afterglow, Xander stared at the ornate cornices on the ceiling whilst petting the long strawberry blonde locks of his dear Mated vampire.

Angelus was in the building, Darla returning to Prague with her Sire. It was a welcome relief for them all in a sense but did mean that Drusilla and Angel were spending a few days ‘with family’ before regrouping at the Aurelian house just off Hyde Park.

Xander now knew the ‘green’ of jealousy, the ‘red’ of anger, and the blue/black of true hate. 

‘Kyldman House’ (as the estate had been officially renamed by William’s Grandsire in a fit of drunken whimsy after its procurement) was *their* home, and though Xander had learned that his vampire needed to reconnect with family on occasion, William spending time with his Sire and Grandsire without his Consort, and so soon after the Master’s abuse, was still hard to take. 

Angelus had arrived for some ‘quiet time’ with Drusilla three days previously and William had been obliged to do the family thing when requested. Xander didn’t worry so much about Dru, indeed had several tea parties with her and her ever present dolls. The old Sunnydale part of him even came to wonder why he had been so fearful of her and so complacent when it came to the threat of Angelus… until he saw her feed. 

Unlike her Sire Angelus, there was no playing, no evil games, no warning. Unlike her Child William there was no measured approach, and certainly no intent to do aught but kill. The minion had brought in the rather disheveled ‘lady of the night’ who, though still disorientated, saw her surroundings and decided to make the best of it, so began to ply her trade. 

The obviously older, experienced street walker had time for a single hip wiggle in Xander’s direction, and a “Well… ‘Ow ‘s ya…” before Dru was at her neck and seconds later she was dead. After which Dru went back to playing with her dolls and ‘dancing in moon beams’ (though the moon was not out) as though nothing had happened. It was then that the Consort Xander suddenly understood. Drusilla’s cognition was so damaged that the demon was unfettered and free to work on pure instinct… hungry = eat. Simple, deadly, and he wondered again as to how or why she had turned rather than killed William.

But it was not the incident with Dru that bothered so much. It was Friday, Friday morning to be exact.

William had been ordered to spend time with his Grandsire during the last seven days and nights. They had left for destinations unknown on Friday evening so when Xander’s beloved arrived back home a week later to their private rooms, very drunk and with visible finger shaped bruises on his backside and torso, bite marks on his neck, and the unmistakable smell of his Grandsire’s spunk on him, Xander was ready to stake the bastard. 

Seeing his Consort in a rage was the last thing William wanted to face, though suspected it was coming. 

He had hoped Xander would understand the occasional need for reconnection – and for his Grandsire… especially now as Darla once more had shunned him in favor of visiting her darling Master, refusing to accompany him to the gathering (in civilized Canterbury!) of the clans from the length and breadth of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland. 

William had not bothered to fill his Consort in as to why Angelus needed his presence. Clan gatherings often involved a good deal of bloodshed and although the Consort’s absence might be noted, William knew the cost to Xander would be dire were he to witness some of what went on. Apart from anything else, there was the summary execution of two vampires – both of whom had chosen to side with the Watcher’s Council and caused the demise of four Childer and one Master in under a month.

Their case had been heard fairly but the evidence was damning and of late, the Council better organized and more threatening than ever before, recruiting from the more ‘wayward’, highly educated witches. The two traitorous minions were ‘staked out’ on a St Andrew’s wooden crosses then forced to drink holy water until their screaming gave way to an agonizing dusting.

Once more Angelus had been forced to explain his own Sire’s absence, and justify the ongoing existence of his mad Childe (given rather unfortunate incident at a recent London party whereby Dru had, in her permanently puzzled state, quite innocently drained a very pretty human guest who were actually meant for the host’s after party play and snack).

As soon as Dru had been delivered back to her Sire and the two departed William fell into his consort’s arms with a combination of regret and plea for forgiveness, “Please forgive… but Grandsire… and he… he needed… was gentle and so sad… and I… I’m his Grandchilde Xan… and… we both needed… Oh Sweeth… So glad you stayed here, so glad… They wanted to dust my Sire! Oh Xan!!! I missed you…love you…*love* you… Grandsire knows that too… you know… how much I love… yeah?!… so *please* understand… He jusss… needed me and I wanted it too.”

It was Xander’s turn to go with instinct. He let his canines extend and bit hard over the still raw mark on William’s neck. The truth was in the blood - the adoration, the devotion, the vampire and the unmistakable essence that was his Mate, William, along with not a small amount of alcohol. And all anger and jealousy evaporated.

It would not be the first or the last time that William spent private time with Angelus – but it was a pivotal one, and Xander came to know that a ‘boys night out’ meant the Grandsire and his progeny hunting and playing together; that it might include a sexual element; that it was just about vampire family; and that he was safe – even from Angelus- in a strictly monogamous relationship of Consort, Mate and Master Vampire.

Josephine Crent’ath (Adrian’s grandmother) was an extraordinary woman… demon. She had lost her Neville to a stupid accident when cleaning his own gun at their hunting lodge shortly after the arrangement for one of their houses was finalized with the Aurelians. Josephine was *always* addressed as Lady Crent’ath or Ma’am – even by Angelus! William had the gracious semi bow and ‘Good Evening Lady Crent’ath’ ritual down pat and swiftly schooled his Consort to do the same. Lady Josephine was delighted with the refined manners of ‘her vampire boys’, and as a consequence the two were taken very much under her wing.

Like many demon families who could pass for human the wealthy Crent’aths were part of the general social scene of late nineteenth century Europe and Xander soon learned to follow William’s lead whenever visitors arrived. They always introduced Lady Josephine Crent’ath as the owner of the manor house and deferred to her on all matters domestic. Something that intrigued their demon guests (given that it was now an Aurelian household), fascinated any human ones (two such attractive young men being ‘looked after so’) and thrilled the lady concerned.

Xander had never been one for history at school, but found himself spending hours reading through various accounts of wars, dynasties and ‘classic’ books. Or better still listening as William (donning his glasses) read from Wordsworth, or Homer (in the original Greek), or Shakespeare – and who would have thought the boy from Sunnydale could come to love a selection of sonnets… or even *know* what pentameter meant!

His appreciation of music also improved. Lady Josephine’s compulsory dinner parties and inevitable amateur music recitals to follow became a regular part of their calendar, but equally they took to traveling to the Albert Hall for a show at least once a month.

After memories of the Master’s and the clan meeting faded, life seemed to even out for a while. William easily stepped into the young lord of the manor role, with a good deal of encouragement – and gratuitous advice from Lady Josephine. She was more than happy to introduce the handsome young ‘Master William and friend Alexander’ to a new circle of acquaintances – both human and demon (though for the latter Xander was more reverently referred to as the Consort of Master William).

……………..

Xander lay for a few moments more remembering lazy evenings, piano recitals, live readings and dinner parties before his cell phone toned in with a preset wakeup alarm. It was the twenty first century. Who knew how a century and a half (or so) ensouled vampire and his frenetic time traveling Consort might be received. 

Tonight they would go to London and make a highly anticipated appearance at the annual ‘coming out’ solstice ball.  
Part 14

Their London visit was always going to be fraught with difficulties – but Adrian did a fine job of paving the way. 

The return of an Aurelian Master Vampire carried with it a great deal of prestige – though in truth the Master and Consort would be privy to more curiosity than reverence these days one would have thought.

The annual solstice ball was now treated more as a fund raiser for several demon run charities than anything else (though should have been an oxymoron, but for the fact that they had to look after their own). Though as a consequence of history and prestige, the ball, being held every year since 1751, was quite the feature on the midsummer social calendar of ‘must do’s’ for the wealthy and the important of the demon clans all over Europe (and a good number of wealthy, ‘connected’ humans). 

As far as Xander was concerned, he had attended with the full London Aurelian family barely a year previously. The masqued ball had been quite the triumph of the season. The Duchess Lilliana Medici, the grand dame of the social set of the time (both human and demon), had even danced with both Master Angelus *and* his pretty Childe, William, during the night. There had been a good number of Europe’s aristocracy in attendance also courtesy of the Duchess’ connections. And as they prepared for the modern day version it was apparent from the guest list, that it was not only the Medici’s who had found wealth and power was enhanced, rather than diminished, by the ‘family demons’.

Spike’s last ball had really not been so much a Medici ball, as a precursor to the most bizarre week of his unlife. It had turned out to be Dru and his last hurrah before heading for New York for a few years. 

That year (1970) the theme of the party had been ‘I eat the flowers’ and a rather radical hippy grandniece of Duchess Lilliana’s had managed to convince a fair proportion of the party goers that they should all go directly from the ball to Glastonbury for the Music Festival. They arrived at the cusp of dawn and consequently those of the group who were sun tolerant joined the first of the revelers on site.

After skimming numerous fellow festival goers on the first night, and reeling from drug and alcohol infused blood, Spike had spent almost two days bus-bound alternately unconscious or staring, apparently fascinated, at his own hands, then at the purple and orange and… whatever ceiling, then back at his hands. Thankfully he was at least inside, or it would indeed have been a dusty day at the concert. 

It was probably the first and only time Drusilla had been the sanest in the room. Sure, she spent time rocking and crooning to her ‘Sweet Willie’, but for some reason, the drug infused blood had given her the clarity to get them both inside during the day. A wild time was had by all, Spike had spent time backstage, in the hairdressing tent having his dark gold locks bleached white, then in the piercing tent having various parts impaled, whilst Dru took to face painting – and eating some of the later customers. How they had both managed to return to London was anyone’s guess – Spike had no recollection. Shortly after, Drusilla and he left to explore the ‘big apple’ - New York.

Now, just into the twenty first century, this ball would be a far tamer affair with no ‘after party’, and if anything, the whole thing seemed to have a rather corporate feel. 

Adrian filled the Master and Consort in as to the ‘who’s who’ of the evening and emphasized the importance of complementing Lady Marguerite in particular (their Glastonbury colleague now following in her Grand Aunt’s footsteps regards hosting the ball).

The theme was ‘Count back – 250 year ball’, with meticulous attention paid to venue, the former ‘city’ house of the Earl of Sandwich, with decorations so accurate as to predate William by a hundred years or so, though exquisitely modern food. The dress was ‘period’ and most had gone all out – including Adrian, who delighted in having pantaloons, waistcoat and a long jacket tailor made in rich gold brocade, with fur edged matching cape, much in the style of George III. The ruffled shirt, flat buckle shoes and knee high stockings would finish the look. He even went to the trouble of procuring a *genuine* kerchief from 1751. The look was perfected by a light wig and large ruby ring from the family collection 

Spike and Xander, on the other hand chose the high collared formal long tailed dress coats of the British navy of the time – but forwent the powdered wig look in favor of high boots, long cape and appropriate ‘silly hat’ and black hair tie for both of them. There was initially some objection by Xander to the military connotations (given that they were officer uniforms) but was eventually convinced that fighting for the ‘White Hats’ when in Sunnydale qualified them both to wear the attire far more than most front line commanders of the day – and in the end Xander had to concede.

Oddly after the argument regards the uniform, Spike insisted on a single diamond earring even though it was hardly the ‘done thing’ for officers in the mid to late 1700s, complaining that “Well gotta do sommit! Hair’s that bloody poncy colour again… and long! Look at this! Near as long as when…”

Spike stopped mid sentence as he saw the look of unadulterated lust in Xander’s eyes and had an unruly lock stroked from his forehead by his Mate, then finished the sentence, “… when we were together…” Xander turned his partner gently and set about retying the wide black ribbon at the back, admiring the slim athletic lines emphasized by the cut of the waistcoat, the brocade, the cutaway high collared dark naval jacket. He finished by whispering, “You were beautiful then, and even more now… Now… First Lieutenant William, I would consider it an honour to have you let me unfasten your buttons and ties later as I have heard that men in uniforms do need relief after their duties are complete for the day. Good Sir at least allow me that?!”

Xander finished his taunting with a feather light brush over Spike’s arm and torso from behind before grabbing his hat and cape and making a sprint for the door.

Spike was quite ‘in the moment’ then realized he’d been played as tight white pantaloons became impossibly tighter, he too took off at a sprint with a “You right bastard – I’ll have you scrubbin’ decks nude just to enjoy the bloody view afore…”

He crashed into Xander at the bottom of the stairs and pinned him to the wall with a rather juvenile, mock show of annoyance before kissing him soundly – much to the amusement of Adrian who simply said, “Too much of that and it will be everyone in the room swooning over you two – not just the ladies. Ghod… you look amazing! Well done.”

Spike, still pinning Xander to the wall turned with a wide grin, “Not s’ bad yerself – fancy a bit of a snog too? Only the boy here’s off limits.”

Adrian gave an over emphasized wink, said, “Why would I want either of you when I *know* I’m going to be picking up the distressed ladies when they realize in full colour, just how your bread is buttered! Now can you two *please* get in the car!”

For the ‘grand entrance’ Adrian had arranged to be driven to the Albert Hall after which they were picked up by a horse and carriage and rode to the party in style.

After surrendering their outer attire to the doorman, the gasps as the three entered were worth every moment of angst as they had dressed. 

The Aurelian Master and Mated Consort let Adrian ‘take point’. The Crent’ath head of household waltzed in with all the confidence to which he was entitled. Adrian looked absolutely like a royal guest of the period, and was known, in business and socially, to the majority of the room. After greeting their hostess and her brother, he sauntered in to join a group of equally well dressed old school chums, happily including, by association, a certain Countess Lottie. 

She was a minor royal of Austrian descent, recently divorced… Spike noticed and couldn’t help but admire the daring of their cohabitant. He was handsome, charming and obviously… well connected, though did not have a ‘title’. Still, his pedigree was flawless and, Spike hoped for his sake. But there was the immediate matters to be attended to as he and Xander were formally introduced.

Spike stopped in front of the appropriately powder wigged, perfectly coiffed and coutured Lady Marguerite (who also looked decidedly older and plumper than he had remembered from 30+ years before!) 

He gave a formal bow appropriate for a 1750’s gent, took her gloved hand and kissed the back of it, then introduced his Mate to their hosts. “Lady Marguerite, Viscount Richard. May I, Master William Aurelius, present my Mated Consort Alexander and thank you for your kind invitation to this fine event, and I purvey the Aurelian Court members’ abject apologies for lack of attendance in recent years.” He bared his true face for a moment before nodding and giving the floor to his Consort.

Xander stepped forward and bade his welcome in the similar fashion as his partner, even momentarily letting his tiny fang’s show – though he had not expected to do so. 

Lady Marguerite was charmed by the proper greeting by the very handsome Aurelians yet, as much as she tried (for her own curiosity rather than confirmation as she could feel the ‘prickle’), neither she nor her brother could spy the Mating mark under the high collar. However, the matching uniforms and the ease with which the two stood near touching was an unmistakable mark of partnership. The hostess smiled with triumph to her brother. This was indeed a coup for her – one of the last of the Aurelian clan, an *old* Vampire Master, and his Mated Consort were joining them again, Master William’s reputation preceded him and the rumors of the charming Consort’s miraculous return was simply… well the talk of the town! 

As a consequence, the Lady Marguerite greeted the next few guests distractedly preferring to watch the two ‘work the room’. 

She vaguely remembered… OK, not so much vague but had been told post drug hazed event… that she had met the Master William in that wonderful first Glastonbury year, but the individual she observed now seemed different. There had been rumors, demon trials and capture, and *everyone* had heard of the years with Drusilla and in government custody (at that she almost spat!) but this Master was confident. 

They entered the enormous ball room to Chopin’s Nocturne in E Flat played by a stunningly beautiful woman (who Xander later realized had a long prehensile blue tail!)

Xander’s hand was touched lightly and the Mate knew – he was on his own for a time and remembered again how his beloved William (now ‘Spike’) engaged people so easily – cultured and switching demon languages and human ones with apparent ease, plus apparently having a flawless memory. Xander was again reminded of the extraordinary person that was William of a hundred plus years ago.

Xander simply watched him for a time, but then was drawn into idle conversation by a couple of extraordinarily attractive, ‘twenty something’ twins - that he later was told were fauns wearing a glamour. Nevertheless, they were charming, and he was having fun and ‘networked’, and afterward was surprised at just how much of an impact he and Spike made by their arrival in back in England, apparently they were quite the ‘featured celebrity couple’. An hour or so on, as the last of the *un*fashionably late guests arrived and as the music of Mozart’s ‘Souve sia il vento’ played, the Master and Consort sought each other out. It did not go unnoticed. 

None of the ladies who had William or Alexander as dance partners on their card, objected as they noticed the two coming together, their stunningly handsome forms complimented by the well cut matching uniforms seemed to meld as they danced an effortless and elegant slow four step. Whispers regards their past spanned the room. But by the time the first piece finished and the initial few glorious bars of Verdi’s “Va pensiero” (the full 17th century orchestra and choir hired for just the purpose) began, others took the floor in the formal variation of a waltz. In the end it became a triumphant swirl of colour evoking enthusiastic applause from all onlookers. The rest of the night was a variation of dance pieces from the ensuing two hundred or so years since 1751 – though most (at the organizers’ request) were romantic. 

Inevitably Spike and Xander had to partner others, but whether they danced together or apart, all became rather a blur. Happily, when the Lady Marguerite called the night to a close with the last song and invited all the ‘stayers’ to avail themselves to the local demon bar, the Master and his Consort… consorted by dancing, very close, and very lovingly, to Louis Armstrong’s slow, “Home Fire” before taking their leave and alighting their transport (a classic London taxi rather than the horse and cart!). 

Consort and Master left the building the talk of the town but returned to their home (with a ridiculously expensive cab charge!) quietly and satisfied that the Aurelian presence had been ‘noted’.

Adrian on the other hand, came home a day later empty handed despite several dances and an 'after party' in the company of the Countess Lottie and friends. He had engaged with a rather lovely Spanish born aristocrat, Princess Christina, early in the night. Spike had immediately recognized her from fashionable parties in the late fifties during Dru and his time in the Italy. He made a point of following the starry eyed Adrian to have a quiet word in the men’s private WC. Spike cornered their lovely caretaker of ‘Kyldman House’ to at least warn off Adrian - vengeance demons were best left alone. 

Thankfully, Adrian heeded Master William’s advice and left well enough alone, though in the end needed little help to pass off the lady in question as she had more than willingly turned her charms on an ‘interesting’ candidate whilst Adrian had been off relieving himself. 

Spike noted that by the end of the night Princess Christina was quite thrilled to opt for the arm – and ride home - with the amorous son of a head of a notoriously violent human drug cartel from… somewhere in China (?). She was seen to enjoy his attentions at two other functions that week though rumor had it that she was being passed to be used by his second in charge within a week, as was the womanizing Joe Wang’s habit with his discarded lovers.

Adrian conveyed the rest of the story a fortnight or so after the party. Apparently she had borne the humiliation admirably but retaliation by a vengeance demon was never very pretty. Shunned she still seemed to play his game, but met with some of his other female conquests and two days later (if reports were correct) the gent in question’s boast of being ‘hung like a horse’ was *exactly* that, said stallion sporting an admirable fully functioning equine member on his human body and needing to seriously revise both his partnerships and his wardrobe to accommodate the now ridiculously huge phallus.

Adrian would be forever grateful for giving up his ‘prize’ to another – though was very careful to remain friends with said lady… at a distance of course. 

All in all the evening was a wonderful success, Lady Marguerite utterly charmed as she danced with the handsome Master William then Consort Alexander in turn. Xander had never been more happy for William and Dru’s rather frenetic dance lessons before the first time he had to attend a ball at Darla’s insistence, as he expertly guided various partners around the floor, his status as Master Vampire’s true Consort apparently confirmed by dancing ability.

Following the cab ride and sprint up to their rooms, the deliberately slow undoing of all those buttons on formal coat and waist coat had both of them so aroused as to be painful; careful untying of bows on shirt sleeves and neckties and removal of britches found both dripping pre-cum. Finally, dressed in only their now loose white cotton shirts, they divested each other of boots… and ever so slowly, shirts before Spike rolled onto his Consort as Xander pulled himself open and felt the thrill of being filled in a single stroke (blessing the ‘lube fairy’ who seemed to have found Spike’s erection though Xander had not registered when his partner had found the time!)

Spike drove into him with care, the waves of joy and love flowing from one to another with each increasingly urgent entry until climax claimed them both and sleep ensued.

The following day, mid afternoon if the clock was right, Xander untangled himself from his heat seeking lover and reflected on the evening. It had been perfect… really all of it had been… and the last time that happened… at least the day after… 

Panicked Xander pulled the (again darker blonde) Master Vampire to his chest, and held on tight… there had been something… he knew there was something he had missed in the back of his mind…

In his sleep Spike began to instinctively seek out Xander’s mating mark and as it was licked again and again he came back to an old worry. Where had his essence gone and would it happen again?

When Spike, still only semi conscious, fell into game face and bit his mate hard, Xander welcomed the sting and almost wished for oblivion – instead he found climax and a few moments of sated black…

Part 15

Waking mid morning, rather *over* warm under two douvets, Xander left the bed grabbed the controls from the wall. He squinted at the LCD screen as it lit up with his touch, then turned down the real heater in their room - the fire place was still functional and wonderful, but a directable heating and cooling system suited to the century had been recently installed in their suite at ceiling level.

He then lay awake for a while worrying a little that a) he was still feeling the effects of the amount of champagne – and Spike – imbibed on the previous night, and b) the business meeting in the morning. 

This newly returned lord of the manor had apparently remembered his true talents since finding his Consort returned - astute and careful businessman, one quite capable of managing not only a large estate, but also a not so insignificant fortune accrued over the years, his carefully constructed portfolio simply gaining value in his years away from Europe. 

It only dawned on Xander in their third week at the estate that a proportion of the money from Will’s designated Aurelian investments must have been constantly put back into the maintenance of the estate via a legal agreement in the 1950s. Then also realized the reason for Angel’s willingness to assist and release more of the funds for the refurbishment, and even more significantly, one that signed William Aurelius joint control, giving Spike free reign to their Swiss accounts. Dru was hardly one to manage… anything and apparently Angel really did remember William’s penchant for all matters financial in the human world, not to mention his own enjoyment of the ‘Kyldman Estate’ before his ensoulment.

Xander grinned as he remembered the look of incredulity then genuine joy on his Mate’s face as confirmation of the fund’s status came through, and felt immense pride to recall the ease with which Spike (his William) took control of all matters financial.

Half the people and demons in the room had already heard of him or had dealings, yet they had only been in England for just under six weeks!

But then that was not so unusual – it had always been William 

On his second waking for the day, Xander didn’t bother to try to return to sleep, opting instead to indulge the memories he retained of their last day a century or more ago. He had resolved to ring Giles today, and Willow, then Angel (reluctantly) for good measure (the latter was also to give his dear Mate an excuse to talk to his Grandsire). With all the research, someone *must* know something by now. He *had* to know that it would not happen again! 

The pain of the last moments was forever emblazoned on his soul, but for now, just for this moment he allowed himself to rejoice in the now bed warmed ‘snuggler’ at his side, any twitch or shift evoking a corresponding wriggle and rewrapping of the lithe body so that maximum contact was maintained. It felt right, comfortable and again he remembered and tried to trace back.

 

……………….

It seemed that Angelus arrived at the estate at every opportunity, usually with Drusilla if Darla was absent, but more often when the ‘girls were out’. Despite Darla’s impatience with Drusilla, she was more than happy to have a girls’ night out with a minion to control her grandchilde needs be. Males were sometimes *so* tiresome.

Strangely the Consort/Mate found the presence of the Grandsire rather welcome. William adored his Grandsire, and the presence of Aurelian ‘royalty’, particularly one with such a reputation and so noble in looks, was very much enjoyed by Mistress Josephine Crent’ath at any soirée she cared to trump up when his visit was imminent. Consequently many a fine night of entertainment was had by all and Mistress Josephine reveled in her growing reputation as *the* social beacon not only for Surrey but the entire London set also.

Truth be known that apart from his charm, and reasonable grasp of languages, Angelus sometimes struggled with the recitals, readings and mini-plays. Oh the Grandsire had no trouble enticing one or other of the ‘help’ off for a free feed – even eaten a hapless violin player in his time, however Xander always enjoyed seeing his dear Mate lean over to whisper in his Grandsire’s ear regards the performance if Angelus looked even the least bit uncomfortable. 

William was always very discrete, making it look like a quick peck on his Grandsire’s neck or a short whisper regards some lady opposite – depending on their fellow patrons of the arts. Inevitably the advice was needed – and very much appreciated. The humans (or demons for that matter) in the audience never saw the subtle exchange of blood given in thanks, but the consort did, and always smiled, Angelus might be bigger and stronger and somewhat cultured since becoming a vampire, certainly had a taste for luxury and was no fool… but William was *so* much more.

Xander had learned that as a human, his mate was privately tutored in the classics, including Latin, Ancient History and French; he was also an avid reader and decent mathematician by the time he was seventeen. He had read Law at Cambridge until his father’s sudden demise, then taken a position as articles clerk with an establishment well known to his deceased father. At least this assisted the family finances, particularly after his mother too, became ill.

Xander was in awe as he learned of William’s talents, and remaining knowledge of what it meant to be a 19C gentleman during their first year… and loved him all the more.

His beloved vampire had been, and still was, an accomplished cello player, and could also play the piano with skill – and both seemed to have endured even after turning - something that thrilled their dowager Mistress Crent’ath. And there was more than one night that Consort Xander felt rather jealous of the cello as he listened to the lilting music of this or that chamber piece and watched as the instrument between his dear vampire’s legs was lovingly fingered, bowed and stroked, consequently resonating its joyful sound, and knowing just how well *he* could be ‘played’ by those beautiful pale hands were he in that position.

One evening the Mistress had seen the Consort’s pout and sidled up behind him following the applause and the guests moving to take tea. 

A slight tap on the shoulder announced her presence, “Master William is quite accomplished, though I have yet to see a more passionate performance. Perhaps his technique might have improved had his Consort been happier about the event… I doubt that you would be so happy to perform in public under his expert ministrations… Hmmm??”

Xander blushed profusely, forced back his tiny fangs and willed his erection down (the latter unsuccessfully). A minute or two later as he and the Mistress excused themselves to find refreshment, his pheromones were still uncontrolled and revealed his lustful thoughts… he really should have known… demons and a good sense of smell!! 

He whispered “I’m sorry it’s just…” Lady Josephine snickered a little then flung open a peacock feathered fan with a flourish that spelt some practice. 

“Oh my *dear* boy! One should always remember one’s *primal* needs. Else wise where would we all be? I too have oft found myself wishing I was my dear Neville’s pipe – being held by those loving lips for most of each day… nothing wrong with feeling jealousy over an inanimate object, but my love… the fun is in the telling! Let your lovely Master Vampire know your lust… it is only right!” And with a push from the dear Mistress, he cornered William in the anti chamber as the young vampire began to carefully pack away his instrument into a soft leather cover.

“Mistress said I… Oh Will… next time let it be me between your legs… pleeee…” 

It was all he got out as his vampire mate grabbed his shoulders, slammed him against the wall and claimed his lips. The kiss was followed by a blood exchange that reminded them both of how very lucky they were to have each other, followed by a loving slap from William to finish the exchange.

“You dolt! Near as put me off me piece! All those wonderful smells rolling off you! Wondered what was up! Well apart from you and I o’ course! Now grab me music and let’s you and I make peace with the lady o’ the house and get us somewhere horizontal!”

Lady Josephine grinned knowingly as Xander stifled a giggle when he was literally dragged up the stairs after the two had been most gracious and formally taken their leave of the mistress and her guests.

A dark figure in the rear of the room moved forward as the two men disappeared to their shared rooms. “The time is near. Would it not be wise to inform the young master?”

Lady Josephine’s demeanor changed instantly, “Would it change anything?”

“No.”

“Then let them have their happiness.” In a sea of lilac taffeta she swirled away from the dark mage, immediately in ‘hostess mode’ once more.

William had left his cello downstairs, so the only thing between his legs was indeed his dear consort, his Mate. 

Xander had made quick work of both their sets of clothes but was now taking a *very* long time to work his way up his lover’s body. 

William had long since given in to being caressed and lay across ten or so pillows and cushions, arms akimbo, legs spread wide and full erection leaking just a little of his interest onto his taut stomach in a debauched pose that would have made any ‘modern erotica’ painter blush.

Xander sucked toes, licked and caressed each strong calf then thigh and nuzzled the much loved nether regions of his vampire, nipping him… just… there(!) before swiftly covering his pale lover with his own body, forcing their equally hard erections together.

He let the moment take him and ground their bodies together, claiming his lover’s mouth for a time then baring his neck. It was the final straw for William, so used to being in charge, he whispered, “Take me tonight, please… just take me” before burying his fangs in his lover’s jugular vein. Three pulls later he got his wish.

Xander waited for the beloved tongue to lick the wound, ensuring complete healing within hours, then reached for a small pot of scented tallow and greased them both liberally being particularly gentle with his dear one. For some reason this night felt particularly special. It was close to their third anniversary, he put it down to that.  
................

A world away in London, a newly returned Darla was whispering in Dru’s ear. She hated that the runt of the family was so comfy in a house somewhere out of her reach. She was tired of the ‘just going to visit my boy’ Angelus; tired of putting up with the insane female whenever she was home; and that Consort! For all the kudos it brought the family, it was time things changed.

The enraged Grande Dame had the plan planted by her darling Master during her last visit *without* Angelus *again*! 

Drusilla had the magical ability, all it would take was an object and a spell… the only hitch being the not so small task of having Drusilla cast said spell accurately and at the most appropriate time… when both ‘boys’ were in repose. So close to sunrise was a given.

That night she satisfied Angelus’ needs swiftly and left him to sleep off the combination of a decent amount of fine brandy and good two rounds of sex before ‘attending’ her grandchilde that she might be rid of the mad woman once and for all. With William free of his Mate, his Sire would be his primary concern, leaving Angelus to her whenever she chose!

Drusilla was fortunately in rather a lucid mood, and more than willing to participate. Darla had her kneel in the centre of the circle of candles and handed her a rather odd faceted, crystal orb. It had an overly ornate gold stand and clearly was rather suited to the ‘middle classes’.

…………. 

 

Xander had entered and was entered, his demon Consort/Mate status blessing him with the same stamina as his dear partner. 

In the end they both lay side by side stroking each other gently, sated, leaking their partners’ seed just enough to remind them and make for a loving smile as lips were caressed by lips and legs intertwined, just to remind each other that they were indeed, as one.

They had made love, they had fed, life and unlife was…

In an instant, torn away!

As Angelus slept, Drusilla, with Darla’s encouragement, chanted, and the portal opened for only one. 

Xander’s legs were sucked in first, torn from their satisfied repose, he was tugged, stretched, wrenched, from his lover’s arms and into the swirling abyss. 

He remembered William’s cries of anguish, could still see him, wanted to touch but then there was… white.

………………….

Xander was shifted from his reverie by a soft touch and baritone rumble, “Penny for your thoughts Luv.”

He buried his face in the strong pale chest and gave in to a life time and a half of grief.

Spike held on for a while before he too gave in to the anguish of a hundred years without his dear Mate, and began to recall, for Xander’s benefit, the events that followed his disappearance.

……………….

Lady Josephine had been beside herself. The entire household had felt the magical jolt and reacted with horror as the truth of what had occurred became evident. She sent a messenger to Angelus at once but it was two days before the large Irish vampire arrived at her doorstep. Two days too late as far as she was concerned and had her own informants. She was in no doubt as to *who* had been behind the dimensional tear (if that’s what it should be called)

Bereft and not eating, William hardly recognized his Grandsire, and Angelus struggled with the grief stricken fledge. He had no experience with Mate vampires and had his own problems with Drusilla and Darla, so simply fed the boy then left, promising the Lady Josephine that he would return at the earliest convenience. Darla had other ideas.

Consequently William was in a haze of grief stricken opium and alcohol for weeks.  
Several of Josephine’s staff had managed to collect him over time: once sitting in the middle of a country road in the pelting rain; the second time hugging a cross in the local cemetery, skin smoking; third was an arrested attempt at drinking holy water; but the final straw was the sunrise incident. At that point the Lady Josephine knew they had to call his Grandsire.

It was only the fast action of her dear Gretel, the kitchen hand, that saved the dear Master. Up just before dawn, the girl had been headed for the market garden to collect parsley for the morning breakfast when she spied the young William. He was sprawled at the start of the barley field, rear of the house. A few minutes later and there would have been no sign of his existence bar for an addition to the ash on the soil below.

The Lady promised to keep the house going and was happy for the funds, but equally as happy to pass the dear grief ridden boy to his Grandsire.

 

Had he been in less pain William would have realized his GrandSire’s concern. Instead, in those first few days, he was cared for as the excruciating pain became dust worthy agony then constant crippling cramps. And oh how he was… falling… 

He had thought that if he just froze… a cold body, found and buried again… or better… heated up in the ultimate goodbye as the cremation furnace took the ‘John Doe’ to his final rest. At least he would feel… warm… for just a moment.

His Xander was gone. His Mate had been torn from his grasp… if only he had held on tighter!

Angelus came to collect him again, took his shoulders in a tight grasp that allowed no argument and let him inside but not before an icy drip fell from the tip of his nose and met a tear on his chin, before both salty tributes to despair hit the ground. 

It was four weeks but the ache never left, but tonight was augmented by memories of other cold nights, and of a warm presence and quiet dialogue and caring hug.

Now his only solace was to steal out and stand in the icy down pour wishing he were a tree, or a simple statue, the former benefiting, the latter ambivalent. 

It was always Angelus who came to collect him, for months and several years later, the punishments and apparent disdain (when Darla was present) slowly molding ‘Spike’. His need to look after his Sire more and more important, and the abandonment/ensoulment of his Grandsire (unexplained by the Grand Bitch incumbent Darla) left him with little choice. He adored her, threw everything he had always felt for his Mate into his care for her. She was his all until… she walked away.

And all those years she had carted around the orb. And all those years he had adored she who had taken… him.

…….

 

In the end, how the orb came to Sunnydale was rather… Well it was just odd and the whole rift thing… maybe it was a book thing, but as Xander remembered… he also remembered… He remembered William’s distress, his own inability to help and watching William become Spike, be hurt, be abused, be… Xander hugged his dear mate close again and Spike instinctively melted into the embrace.

They had a way to go before all was well but just here, just now… Xander just needed to find that orb!  
PART 16

They went riding together with the retired Watcher the evening Giles arrived. Giles was accomplished, as were both Spike *and*, to his surprise, Xander, although it was hardly surprising given what he now knew of the now boy’s past.

They led off at walking pace, but Spike soon whispered into his charge’s ear and accelerated at a pace that excited the others. Xander’s steed was given his head and a rather stunned Giles had to urge his on in order to keep up and bring up the rear.

The sprint lasted across two of the coven fields, a fence and several small streams. It may have been only a mile or so but still had the adrenalin rush and then calming needed to have the discussion needed.

Giles was still panting from the chase, “So you two are… happy then…”

Xander was quite relaxed as he steadied his stead. “Of course! C’mon Giles another gallop?”

“No, no! A moment... I was… this is a spirited gelding and quite… I’m used to my warm blood mare… quite a different… Arabians were never…” All horses slowed and Giles looked decidedly relieved, “Oh thank goodness, we’re back at a walk.”

Giles panted for a while then urged his steed back to the gentle trot that his horse was forced to adhere to as two others pulled away either side and they made their way back to the stables.

As the three dismounted Spike grinned at the aging gent, “So, Watcher, what say you to the boy’s skills, mighty fine seat wouldn’t you say?”

Spike leaned forward and slapped Xander on the rear affectionately causing Giles to blush a little at the familiarity before replying. “Yes I must say, he equips himself very well. I take it you had…?”

Xander shot a look of wicked resignation to Spike then smiled at his old mentor, “Experience in the saddle? More than you know Giles. Came with the times… and the… ahhh… escapades.”

“Indeed… Indeed.”

The three rode on at a quiet walk, each caught up in their own thoughts. Giles recalled his time as a youth on his uncle’s estate, his sister Hettie (she preferred the nickname she had picked up at university and even introduced herself as ‘Bob’ to some of his friends). Older than her Rupert by two years, she was a feisty redhead studying the classics. Intelligent to a fault, she and her horse were just as spirited. When they were both home for a summer break, riding really was the only time they spent alone together. Secrets were told, hopes shared and a good deal of friendly rivalry resolved on the gallop home.

Hettie had indeed become a fine tutor of Latin and Ancient Greek at Cambridge and was well on her way to a PhD when tragedy struck in the form of an out of control petrol tanker and two other cars. She had been visiting friends for the weekend, by all accounts death had been instantaneous. In a way it had been the beginning of Rupert’s ‘wild days’, and it wasn’t until he was seconded to the Watchers’ council that he ever rode again, then of course in Sunnydale it simply was not as accessible. Now, back at the coven, Giles realized how much he genuinely enjoyed the power and grace of his warm-blood mare… and the reminders of innocent joys past.

Spike looked over at Giles as the older watcher’s eyes glazed over and he allowed his memories to dominate. William’s riding had been with family on occasion though he was always a little nervous, not helped by several embarrassing occasions when he was a senior at school. He had been invited to his friend George’s home on the weekend of a hunt. Later it would transpire that George, a rather red-faced portly lad, had been encouraged to ask William by George’s mother who misheard William’s last name and assumed the young lad was one of the Surrey ‘connected’ gentry.

He had been offered a rather flighty filly and managed quite well until being thrown at the third hedgerow, nevertheless had arrived at the tail end of the main group and toasted the event whilst nursing some rather spectacular bruises.

A second incident occurred at University when the borrowed horse he was astride decided a flapping set of white sheets on a line on a hill several leagues away warranted blind panic. It took almost three miles before the steed slowed.

Later… post his Mate Xander… he had ridden recklessly, not caring if he lived or died. It had paid dividends, Dru and he safe after a mad sprint through the black forest, or across the Lake District, or more recently out of Prague and into the countryside. Angelus had been a fine rider and good instructor. And William/Spike in those first few years a willing student.

Xander on the other hand, contemplated joyous rides, exhilarating escapes and *very* satisfactory aftermaths.

He had been tutored by the best, at Angelus (!) insistence. William and he spent endless evenings practicing jumps, dressage, just plain hacking… until he was utterly confident. He remembered their last ride together before he was dragged away. It was a flat sprint toward the country estate they were now in. The horses pushed to their limit as they raced across moonlit paddocks, over low built walls and scantily manufactured wooden fences, and for no other reason than they had made themselves late by … well it was the moon and they were there… and lovemaking could be so time consuming!

Xander was pulled from his revelry by Giles as he was asked a direct question. “But what of the slip from one to another… do you have insight as to the cause… surely…?”

It was Spike who answered, “Thought that was yours to play with Watcher. Boy here is the original… Our query is the possibility of the second claiming… You know… the second grab across dimensions.” Spike stared hard at a rather puzzled Giles sitting atop an unfamiliar Arabian steed. “Bloody hell Watcher! Do I need to spell it out? Is the boy gonna disappear again or what?! How… Do… We… Stop… It?!!”

“Yes well ummm,” Giles, though initially taken rather aback quickly shifted his position and stiffened. “You are not the only one who is concerned here Spike! We are all working to the same end… albeit yours is a life…unlife… threatening one but nevertheless! Xander you still have not shed any light on the whereabouts of your essence when you did disappear from the time altered realm… As it was over 100 years there and but three or four years here it is likely there was dimensional travel also. Tara has suggested hypnosis along with a dynamic aura reading to try to tease out the details. She and Willow are in agreement – it may even reveal the reason for the shift in the first place.”

Xander pulled his horse in a quick 180 degree turn and faced the old Watcher. “I hope you are prepared for what you learn then… Because as much as I know I want to find out if this could happen again, I also know what I lost. And I suspect Spike is worse off than me in that regard.”

Giles nodded silently and closed his eyes momentarily in obvious pain, “Some of us suffered on this side too, Xander, some of us *non* vampires missed you too. I will… I am doing my best.” The older man took the reins in one hand and rubbed over his eyes with the other in an expression that spoke silently of fatigue.

Spike saw it and whispered to Xander… “Anything you can remember… words, colours, sounds?”

Xander nodded reached to squeeze his lover’s hand then rode on for a time, finally saying as though an automaton, “When all seems lost, he will be found. The Dark Plum makes it so.”

Spike and Giles locked gazes then said in unison, “Drusilla.”

Part 17

And so it was. Two days after the joyous ride Xander was in a darkened room that smelt of incense and prickled with magic.

Tara, Willow and three other senior wiccans were chanting Spike was pacing and Giles simply absented himself until proceedings began, after which he would touch Tara to add his own magical ability to the mix.

Xander was lying in the middle of a circle of salt that had been consecrated and formed the centre of a pentagram with a candle and chanting witch at each corner. He tried to relax but it was almost an impossibility, given the circumstance and the company!

After the chanting began Spike was eventually encouraged to lie down at the peak of the pentagram prostrate, touching Willow’s feet.

Tara chanted and reached out touching Xander on the arm and melding with his aura.

For both Xander and Tara, the images were vivid and compelling, the emotions equally so. As a consequence all felt it. Giles drew breath as the depth of care and adoration flowed between Vampire and Mate, the hurt of their separation peaked its full force flawing all present, and the magical energy likewise pushed every creature in the near vicinity sensitive to the pulse to the point of pain.

But through it all came images and a very clear message. It had been Drusilla who chanted the spell that opened the rift – that was true – but it was Darla who was behind the push. 

Images of the family in the last days permeated all the chanting witches’ minds and they saw clearly that the Grand Dame Darla was jealous of Angelus’ favour for his grandchilde and her ‘Boy’s’ tolerance of the human Mate/Consort. The terrifyingly brutal Angelus was ‘mellowing’. 

The witches all felt the affection Angelus had for his Grand Childe, the appreciation of his company and the relief he felt when the Consort occupied Dru by braiding her hair and playing tea parties on the estate while Angelus and William shared the hunt. It drove Darla to distraction. The instant she returned to London she could see it, feel it… taste it - his preference for sharing the slaughter with another male, even joining in the seductive art of skimming or simply dividing the plunder, not with her, with… *William*! Returning from her magnificent Master, she had seen ‘the look’ clearly, her Sire had warned of it. It was time to take back control, and William was the key. 

Images of the Master enjoying her attentions then listening to her plight were blurred but apparent, but the result of the counsel was crystal clear. On her third evening back, she called for Drusilla – claiming they had been invited to an evening of cards and frivolity by a minor royal. She even allowed Xander to dress Dru’s and her hair then smiled enigmatically as the two women departed their London abode. 

Xander was becoming increasingly distressed within the circle of salt and two of the withches were crying openly caught in the myriad of memories and images channeled via their subject.

Spike could feel his partner intensely and began to shake violently, finally collapsing to the floor, arms over his head, keening and rocking as wave after wave of distress and horrendous memories came, both his and Xander’s.

Giles looked across but dared not take his hand from Tara’s back for fear that the magical boost might be lost, despite the fact that Xander was now writhing in distress.

The five wiccans all saw the lead up, and the moment. The boys were about to embark on a joyous evening of parties, plump women delighting in the attentions handsome men, ‘likely lads’ fancying themselves as gentry and deserving of seduction, followed by a celebratory carriage ride to finish the night.

Angelus took to the carriage first, William kissed his Mate and squeezed his arm promising “Games are afoot mate… c’mon! This is me warm up… Will love ya into the floor afore the night’s over!” 

Those observing the circle saw Xander begin to cry. 

As the Consort meant to alight their transport for the night, something happened. His feet were as though bolted to the ground. He tried to reach for the carriage but his arms were… disintegrating. He became aware of a bright light surrounding him and pain. He kept sending love to his Mate kept sending but he no longer had control. He watched in horror as his legs disintegrated then were sucked into the swirl… he reached out… just… if he could just?! And then it was… nothingness. He could feel his Mate at the outer edges of his… essence. He felt the extremes – the extreme grief, the physical pain, the… desperation and devastation. 

But there was no real sense of time… it was as though ‘two parts removed’ from the fact. 

The Mistress called the session as soon as the ‘return’ was visited. 

It had been close to four hours of meditation and draining energies. But the most profound and sustained affect was the forced abduction of Xander and his essence and the affect on the bereft vampire.

They all say it, William’s desperation, his anger, tirades, vicious attacks on any who crossed his path; his self destructive inclinations and willingness to create ‘trouble’. Nothing stood in his way, no-one was safe - Darla rejoiced, Angelus tried to control him for a time, then simply kept the family safe, and Drusilla was as oblivious as ever.

‘Spike’ became a way of finding his anger manifest. 

*They* had taken him – possibly humans! Darla fed the thoughts by suggesting it was the humans who had plotted against the Aurelians, claimed back their own, dragged Willaim’s dearest from the realm because of his own weakness and yet?? 

William’s dedication to family? Was that the reason for the catastrophe? Angelus had been drained by his Sire, Drusilla was wailing inconsolable and William??? In the ensuing months, William played the game according to the She Bitch Darla but not because of her. He was desperately vicious, acutely violent, and splattered the name of William the Bloody, aka Spike the Aurelian, across Europe. Angelus was with him blow for blow, soulless though no the less affected by his boy’s distress. And more than that, his ‘Dark Plum’ was removed from his grasp as Darla claimed her boy exclusively once more. 

Xanda was adrift… a nothing… a thought or soft pass of a breeze. He tried constantly to push his essence into William’s realm but was denied again and again. 

Xander remembered floating in and out of contact, sometimes so close it was… just … not… tangible! And remembered crying in frustration, grief, bereft of all that meant anything… so close and yet… He watched William become Spike, tear apart, torture, maim, mark and define himself through violence borne of the deepest distress…

He saw Darla condemn Angelus, deliberately, in a fit of jealous rage after her Childe refused to chastise his Grandchilde for an attack on the local beer house.

Angelus disappeared, William was burdened and blessed with the full time care of Drusilla and Darla tolerated the two for a few more years, but fled the family part way through their China adventure and returned to her Sire. The revisit of Angelus in his souled form sickened her, more that she could not bring herself to stake him than his ‘beaten puppy’ persona. 

And Xander had been forced to watch… Watch his dear heart struggle to survive, his lover take others out of spite or simply to forget… Every dark haired boy, every pretty pair of brown eyes, every… he kept looking… but it was never *him*.

At the edge of Xander’s mind he could hear Spike, “Where are you sweetheart? Where were you? Please don’t leave me… Please!!! Not again I can’t… I can’t…”

It was followed by the sensation of Darla’s “*Never*”; Angelus’ weak “No! Will!”; and Dru’s, “Weeeeee… cakes for tea!”

Xander was immediately awake. The strength of the magical blast bringing him to the present also throwing all the wiccans and Giles back from the pentagram several meters!

Spike watched in horror as the smoke and fire of the blast subsided and all in the room rushed to the assistance of those injured, except for the inert splayed figure of his beloved limbs still smoking in the centre of the room. Spike crawled desperately toward the non breathing figure of his beloved.

He pulled Xander’s unbreathing, still and blackened (in places) body to his chest, tried desperately to brush charred and wizened strands of hair from an ashen face, tore open his wrist with a viciousness that spelt desperation, and tried desperately to force the blood into an unresponsive mouth. He then massage the lax throat just enough as bloodied tears fell, all the while crying, “Why? He’s did nothing! Why!!!???? I love him… I love him… GrandSire! Giles… Mistress… Oh Goddess… I… Love… Xan… If you can’t then take me with you… Then please take me! 

In full game face Spike rounded on the wiccans, the former Scoobie still clutched tight to his chest. His Game Face was focused on noone! “Come on! Have at it I’m not bloody doing this again… Finish him and hell… there are plenty of trees around, grab a stake and have at it! I die, he dies… it’s what you wanted isn’t it?... What you all wanted isn’t it?... Bloody hell just *do it*! Don’t take him again... Not like this!!!”

It was only Tara’s calm and Willow’s eye for detail that spotted it. A small garnet and gold ring on a necklet had surrounded Drusilla’s neck during the last vision as the rift was invoked. It was a ‘gift’ from Darla, and one that the rather dotty vampire handed on to her Chaos Demon friend, so consequently destroyed as the two jumped into an Icelandic volcano whilst chanting a love spell – apparently to consummate their love. Resulting in the rather minor ‘show’ of blue and crimson sparks amongst many that manifested with the full lava flow that evening. Darla was dust, as (apparently) were Drusilla and ‘Bfflart’ – and the rift opening pendant went into the fiery abyss along with its rather deranged wearer.

It took some minutes for all to recover but eventually Tara took control. She stood unsteadily, but planted both feet and grasped the hand of the wiccan to her right, and placed her left on the grief stricken figure of Spike. The same was done around the circle, surprisingly even including the Slayer and Giles in the wiccan show of strength, as the blast of energy drove skyward.

Spike passed out with the extraordinary pulse, as did most of the wiccan circle. But Tara, Willow and Giles maintained consciousness. There would be no reversal of Xander’s status. He was in this realm to stay… or at leas the realm of Spike (aka William the Bloody), Willow was not taking any chances!

……………..

Two days later a rather shaky Xander sought the counsel of Giles. Little could be done regards the existence or otherwise of the talisman, and the upshot seemed to point to the demise(or otherwise) of Drusilla – or at very least the elimination of the stone that held the power to open the rift.

Everything seemed to indicate its elimination… that was something. In the same conversation Xander eventually (via a rather convoluted route) tried to explain the whereabouts of his essence… ‘there but not there’ eventually being about the best he could come up with… Giles polished his glasses, Xander apologized and the two reassured each other. There were no real guarantees but it did seem, at least judging by the portents and the visions, that he and Spike would… be. 

 

That night, in private, Spike and Xander made love as though it was their first and last time. Both were exhausted, both unconvinced it would be anything but their last joining. Any but the most bold would have turned away or at least had cause to blush. Passion gave the two strength for a time but their final act was one of abject hope… hope that this was all there was… hope that this was who they were… hope for love… that was truly… forever.

Late that night Spike rang Angel again. This time he had a quiet hand holding his right as he spoke candidly to his Sire. The conversation threw Angel for a loop. It was William on the other end of the line. Something had shifted. The Mate was returned he knew that, but…

William was back. But it was a quietly spoken, measured, mature, William who was holding his consort’s hand whilst asking for his Grandsire’s approval to ‘attend the Aurelian Court’ and asking that they might ‘wipe the slate clean’ regards some altercations of late.

Angel was about to hang up, assuming the blonde menace was drunk, when he heard a quiet tenor voice ask “Request Grandsire that he might come riding… In Surrey… in three days’ time. He knows the address of the coven, and I am sure we can find somewhere for him to stay.”

“You heard the boy…”

Angel closed his eyes for a moment – unsure whether to be angry or thrilled. In the end he settled for resigned, “Yes… alright – but only a week to ten days… I have a business…”

He was cut off by a short, “Good then get the girl Friday to send us yer details and we’ll arrange a pickup.” Followed by a click.  
Part 18

Xander had informed the coven of Angel’s impending arrival, and Spike broke the news to an over excited Adrian Crent’ath who immediately a) ordered a car and driver for the duration of Angel’s visit, and b) sent out dinner invitations to *all* the who’s who of the Surrey ‘set’ and more than a few influential Londoners besides, despite Spike’s protests that Angel was ‘less than inclined’ regards large parties these days given the soul having and remorse. He was answered with a flip of the hand and dismissive “Nonsense William… It will be a night to remember… a night worthy of this fine house and the Aurelian line!”

Angel arrived in a handsome limousine some seventy one hours later, not so much bewildered by the flight or personal service… but certainly thrown by how familiar the estate looked. Other than the accoutrements of modern, wealthy households, it looked virtually the same as when he had last visited.

………

William had been out of control for weeks and Darla simply would not let it rest. The bloody rampage across the city had not stopped at likely demon perpetrators of the abduction of his Mate, but extended to any human that crossed his path. William was well and truly out of control. 

No manner of thrashings or torture seemed to make a difference – indeed the blonde begged for more so the pain outside might match that he was feeling internally.

Darla had very quickly tired of running, insisting that Angelus take her to Europe or stake his wayward Grandchilde or preferably both! William was hurting, so reckless and uncaring of the need for the family to hunt in safety that were chased out of many old haunts for fear of the angry mobs out for dust. Darla blamed Angelus for William’s misdemeanors and the ongoing annoyance of the mad as a hatter Drusilla. She demanded Will be punished for days at a time, strung up stripped bare, beaten until he was aught but a mass of bruises or flayed skin. 

Fingers were broken, toes, nose and ribs certainly, and arms too on occasion… though nothing that would slow down their progress should they need to move in the opulence to which she had become accustomed.

Nothing mattered to Will. He knew somehow that Darla had taken his Mate. His only solace was his mad Sire. She licked his wounds with glee, ran soft fingers over his bruised form and rebroke fingers “With a whack and a crack! And we all fall down!”

And through the haze of pain, Will knew his Grandsire was hurt almost as much as he. When the She-bitch was not present, he would be let down from the ceiling restraints, cradled in strong male arms and fed his Grandsire’s blood, all the while Angelus appealing to him to stem his behaviour. 

They were in Romanie – fleeing from England until ‘things settled’. William was again strung up. Drusilla and Darla were sharing a bed next door, and Angelus was allegedly continuing to ‘teach that pathetic pup a lesson!’ with a short training whip, as wet and vicious as it was light weight, quite capable of drawing blood at each strike.

William was beyond anything but a rasped grunt as the forty-first blow struck, “I d’nay *want* t’ hurt ye Will… c’mon boy… don’t give her grist fer the mill! Just steady… Ahh Geeezus! Forty two!... In truth ye always were a soft one, but now I see yer strength… Forty three… Just do this for me Will… I tire of beatin’ ye at Darla’s command… But t’would best be me not her… Forty four… Please Will!!!… Care for your Sire and look for yer lover… your Mate… anon. I care for ye Will… *Please*.”

Sadly for Angelus, Darla had caught the end of the conversation. The following evening she let William down from his torture, allowed both Drusilla and Angelus to tend him gently, and two nights later fed Angelus a gypsy virgin in honor of his turning day.

That night the rest of William’s world fell apart.

Angelus just… disappeared. Explanations from Darla were laughable at best but with Dru crying hysterically and the gypsy’s blamed what was one to do?!

William the Bloody was true to his name, painting the ground in blood wherever he went. Short sharp ends to so many lives and all in the name of the GrandSire, the Mate, the Sire, the… the... It didn’t matter any more! He and Dru were in and out of Darla’s favor – she tolerating them only that her own reputation for brutality might be bolstered in the eyes of her dear Master. 

He took on the moniker of ‘Spike’ and immersed himself in the blood, the crunch, the kill. Nothing else mattered now. He would please his Sire, his dark plum, and keep her safe from the bitch. Somehow he knew Darla was behind his boy’s… he couldn’t… to think of it hurt… made it real. Dru swooned he caught her and kissed lips that were too cold and too slim, yet they yielded and it was all he had left… all he had left.

After sixty or so years things had evened out. Spike had seen Angelus come and then, for reasons *Darla and soul* related, *go* in China. Abandonment – just when he had killed his first slayer, just when he needed his Grandsire’s approval, just when… just... Spike buried William the evening the bastard abandoned them for the last time, buried William for good, and became Spike.

Dru, bless her, was none the wiser. She loved WWII and their sojourn afterward in Monaco then Italy (a love affair which saw them spending nearly every summer in the south of France or Italy proper for the next fifteen or so years!). WWI had been “too much of that nasty gas that makes them taste funny and makes my eyes sting”. Added to that Spike (as he was known in all circles now) was more than happy to absent them from the killing fields after a happy sniper managed to lodge two bullets in his right buttock! After only two weeks they took their feeding to easier pickings, away from the fields of war in the Dardanelles and back to the confused streets of Paris.

Spike was more than happy to indulge his lady… it was all he lived for now… just like when he was first made – she was his destiny… But even then Spike never really stopped looking for his Mate, the brown eyed boy.

He had done his research (privately so had Angelus pre his ensouled days). A dimensional rift and consequent taking could fling one forward – but not back (?) – even his limited knowledge of universal laws seemed to indicate that. At least he thought it did?! And he knew that if Xander was dead, then he would be too, that was a given according to the laws of magic – and he wasn’t dead so Xander was… somewhere?!

So he kept looking, his dotty Sire joining in the fun by pointing out every dark haired boy, every muscled back, every soft toned voice with an American accent… Much as she innocently rubbed salt into his wounds, he loved her for it but never truly stopped looking.

And Xander strangely… had known. There was something, in the preservation and return of his essence there were residual flashes. He knew he was loved.  
……………….

Angel was met by an effusive Adrian at the base of the stairs and all but got back in the car, then saw Spike… not Spike… *William* hand in hand with a slightly taller, well proportioned brunette male.

A wildly enthusiastic handshake from Adrian distracted him for a moment.

“So glad you were able to fit us into your busy schedule… It is *such* an honour to host you again Master Angelus”

Angel tore his stare from the couple at the top of the landing and focused back on Adrian, “Actually it’s just Angel… Thanks for the…”

True to his flamboyant style Adrian rounded on their guest, waving frantically at the staff to sort the luggage and ushered Angel up the stairs, “Of course… gypsies! Pffftt! Our family had had none of their nonsense for five hundred years. No scruples any of them.” Adrian all but dragged a rather overwhelmed Angel up the steps toward the main entrance where his Grandchilde and Mate waited. Xander the boy… *man* he had known so many years ago… the altered memories mixing with originals yet it still felt right, especially in this context, this house. 

Adrian was still chatting away enthusiastically, “Come in and let us get you settled. I’ve put you in the east wing – the rooms are a little smaller as you’ll remember but you will have your own sitting room and the views are… well you remember the views from Grandmama’s day – we’ve kept…” He fell suddenly silent when he realized Angel was not listening, instead was entirely preoccupied by the two at the door.

A soft baritone said “Sire” as Spike bared his neck. Xander did likewise.

To his credit Adrian realized the privacy and importance of the moment and waved the staff inside, leaving the doors open and the three figures exchanging blood quietly in the moonlight.

The altered memories seemed to have shifted the relationship between the two vampires in subtle ways. Though initially both vampires were rather stiff, it soon fell away, Angel pulling Spike in to him hard, and through the link Xander felt the difference. This Angel, soul having perhaps, but this Angel was… “Sire” again at last. The two embraced long and hard, blood taken and given. And as he waited Xander pondered.

His greatest difficulty was understanding the impact of his disappearance in both realms. Still, vague flashes of the ‘interim’ his three/hundred plus years away… the gap to him was nothing, a mere heartbeat, yet now, thanks to the intervention of the coven he knew just what an impact his impromptu, unintentional departure had been. Darla had managed, in a simple act to do something equally as devastating when she ensouled then banished William’s Grandsire. 

Along with that, Xander now had an insight into the period between when Angelus tried to manage the strife caused as William spun out of control and the consequent beatings and the becoming of ‘Spike’… And Xander understood the Grandsire’s need to run when the soul was handed to him. The Grande Dame Darla had won the day again, and in the blink of an eye was well rid of the soulful version of her Childe. 

But now, with Xander, his Mate and Consort at his side, and in his Sire’s embrace, Xander saw Spike become William once more. Not an insipid, young poet William, but the magnificent vampire, the beautiful male who all but glowed in the wane light of the moon as he took his Sire’s blood whilst held in a full loving embrace.

Angel tasted it, but was neither envious nor angry. Spike had his Mate back and now it was up to the Grandsire to reestablish the connection with family (such as it was).

Eventually, after blood was had on all sides, the three moved quietly indoors. Spike nodded to Adrian’s PA and Angel was shown to his rooms.

Just past three in the morning, as the household slept, Spike and Xander had made love, but were both a little too awake to rest peacefully, so instead, Spike took his Mate’s hand and they padded silently through the corridors to Angel’s room.

Nothing was said, but the duvet was lifted by the incumbent vampire, and shortly after three male forms embraced in a quiet familial embrace, the warmth of the Mate heating Spike’s back as he was spooned from behind whilst resting a chiseled cheek on his Grandsire’s strong chest. 

Angel was not there to provide answers to anything particularly, rather they were together to consolidate family once more. 

Angel was heard to sigh contentedly before all three gave in to slumber. 

 

PART 19

The three Aurelians woke slowly early afternoon but all chose to remain in the too long forgotten three way embrace, Xander’s heat permeating them all and the duvet pleasantly comforting.

Finally Spike broke the silence.

“So… Anyone for a fondle?”

It was such a silly statement and so typically Spike (not William) that it required a slap from his Consort and a grunt of mild annoyance from his Grandsire although… 

Angel had not really felt at ease to let his demon loose other than when fighting for a hundred years plus, but the new memories and the presence of the mated pair drove the original Angelus to the surface of his conscience. And the interesting part for the ensouled one was that there was no conflict any more. His boys were back. He nipped his wayward Grandchilde lightly on the shoulder and grumbled “Go back to sleep.” Much may have changed but the new and old memories of their time were so strong, and here in this place…

Spike gave a rather bemused “Ow!” at the nip, then slapped Xander back, grinned wickedly at his mate and winked. He then leant over and kissed his surprised Grandsire square on the lips before tweaking Angel’s dark nipple hard, flicking Xander in the nether regions and promptly launched out of Xander’s grasp and over his Sire and out of the bed.

What ensued was a rather impromptu – and very uncharacteristic (for Angel of late) chase down the hallway and around several flights of stairs and was only halted at the appearance of Adrian’s PA on the ground floor. It resulted in three rather ‘underclad’, smiling, and consequently somewhat embarrassed group of gents being invited to take ‘brunch’ in the atrium (their disheveled appearance much to the bemusement of Adrian). 

The vampires sat drinking, Spike still occasionally stealing food from Xander’s plate to crush and mix with his blood, and Angel smiling for the first time since…? What interested the consort was the number of times Spike casually reached across and touched his Sire – the thrill being the reciprocal gentle caress of hand or knee and the subtle invitation for the consort to touch too.

Their host Adrian enjoyed the scene immensely – this was what his grandmother had described – but it was so much better in the flesh! They were a family, anyone could see that, but essentially he was there to remind them of the momentous event to come that evening – the ball was to welcome back the Aurelians to their home!

Adrian chose the moment carefully, but the presence of the three semi-clad beautiful male forms did tend to have his quills emerging… Adrian’s P.A. was already instructed to assist them with costumes and ‘notes’ on the invited guests. 

Angel seemed in a rather odd mood, saying little as usual but strangely relaxed. It was over a hundred years but somehow… he felt at ‘home’. He was still trying to reconcile what this meant… was this really his ‘shanshu’ perhaps? Not to become human or find perfect happiness (whatever that was) but to be at peace at last? Though still trying to come to terms with the new memories and far older ones, he did feel right, resolved, and in a way redeemed, he had his soul *and* his family back. He smiled as he noted Xander lift his wrist for his Mate to take – and surprised to again see the boy’s tiny fangs drop as Spike reciprocated. He then gave himself a mental slap. The ‘boy’ was no longer truly human, his new memories knew that.

The three were broken from their reverie by an insistent Adrian as he read through the guest list, they all recognized a number of names. Adrian had been careful to invite (where longevity allowed) any allied demons from Angelus’ time before the ensouling, and before Xander’s disappearance.

Ever the showman, Adrian, requested that the three Aurelians (two vampires and one consort) descend the stairs together after the main group of guests had arrived, and in costume as was appropriate. 

He had deliberately demanded that all the guests dress in the nature of the late 1800s – and offered to dress the three Aurelians from his personal dresser’s own collection. The high collared waistcoats and classic navy blue and gold formal garb of the English Military of the period did not sit so well with Angel (Irish sensibilities still to the fore) though he was familiar with the style and the effect was striking.

The three descended the stairs as a proud family group, greeted by various demon and human socialites and dignitaries, and chatted surprisingly easily. 

Despite the fine, appropriate aperitifs and drinks, Angel tugged at his high collar a little uncomfortably for the first half hour, Spike noticed and opened his wrist, resulting in a rather stunned Angel taking from his Childe in a small alcove behind the stairwell then offering his own, feeling the connection on a visceral level… literally, and calming. 

It was an epiphany of sorts. And one from which there was no return. He would not abandon this again. This was family and love and history and unconditional devotion and… home, after more than a hundred years. It was William and his Consort and he, once more, truly felt like… the Aurelian Grandsire.

The change was subtle but noticed by Spike and Xander, and both grinned knowingly as Angel gradually relaxed, stood a little taller and chatted more easily with guests, even offering to dance graciously with a few of the ladies as the music became the focus.

Adrian was ecstatic, the night was a triumph and he immediately began speaking of a ‘mid summer ball’ to various guests (much to his PA’s dismay!). Such an event took weeks to plan and she had hoped for a little respite during the balmy nights of summer.

For Xander the whole event was incredibly, and at the same time puzzlingly, familiar. His disconnect with this type of thing was but weeks old… for the other two it was a century and more. Nevertheless Spike rose to the occasion, dancing with his beautiful Consort and even his Sire for one round and wooed many a giggling lady (of all species) onto the floor, to do as both his Sire and Consort did, dance and flirt with them. 

At one notable point in the evening Spike noted the worried look on Adrian’s pretty PA’s face, this night was very much of her making. She was dressed in a radiant sapphire satin period dress, and Adrian had made sure to provide lend her some of his own mother’s stunning ruby and diamond jewelry. Nevertheless she looked quite strained having worked so hard in the upcoming days to the event.

Spike quietly instructed the small live orchestra, then approached her, bowed deeply and requested her company in a dance. What resulted was a lively polka, to the rather classical “Shall We Dance” from “The King and I”. She found herself being swept around the floor her long train flung over her gloved arm and dark tresses almost coming loose from their stays. Mischievous twinkling blue eyes, strong guiding arms and a grin that spoke of thanks had her letting go for the first time in… years. So they danced and it was infectious. In the end Xander, Adrian and even Angel were swirling partners around the floor – along with fifty or more guests of all persuasions/species. 

As the music finished, the dear PA was left grinning, almost breathless in her beautifully beaded gown, and really did need the fine bone fan she had been gifted on the night by her boss.

It was to be the first of five more lively classical pieces that left the participating guests panting and taking more of the wonderful fruit punch (and other beverages of choice). The evening ended well beyond two in the morning as weary guests toddled to their chauffeured private cars, and line of taxis.

As the last guest left, Adrian pulled the rather exhausted Aurelians, and his entire staff, into the atrium at the rear of the house and issued them all with fresh, large bulb glasses, proceeding to pour ‘a snifter’ of his finest brandy into the base of each.

“A toast to a fine evening of food, wine, women, song, dance… and everything in between! To all of you… Salute!!”

Glasses were raised in unison, kitchen staff, casually hired waiters, the small orchestra and two singers – even by a smiling Angel – all toasting the other staff and their host “Salute”.

Spike sidled up behind the ensouled version of his Grandsire, empty glass in hand and whispered over his shoulder at a vampiric level “Not brooding again are we? Penny for your thought’s?”

“Oh Sp…*William* tonight has been just… Perhaps this is my Shanshu… finding family again after all I’ve done… after all this time… How can you forgive? I…”

Unexpectedly Xander joined the two, sliding his hands around the blonde vampire’s waist as Spike whispered, “Just did what the bitch of a Sire of yours dictated by jealousy, stealth, meddling, pure evil and hate…” It was said with so much justified venom that both Grandsire and Childe fell into game face.

It was Xander who spoke next “Grandsire can we be happy – even just for tonight…”

Spike grinned then intoned “May as well! Knowing us, it will all go to hell on the morrow! No happiness ever truly lasts… Not for us anyway. Well truth be known, not for anyone on this ridiculous earth.”

Angel turned and kissed his Grandchilde then Xander on the neck in full view of Adrian and the staff, “So come on let’s us pay our respects and let family be family… I think we need to retreat as in days of old.”

What followed was a dignified and very gracious thank you to all concerned from the Aurelians, then a slow ascent to the second floor and their respective suites. But just as previously, Angel opened the covers of his bed. This time to three highly aroused males exchanged blood and enjoyed dreams enhanced by touch and familial memory.

The following morning was somewhat different. Angel Investigations was calling with an urgent message to return, the Swiss and London banks managing Aurelian accounts were calling, and Xander’s parents were on the phone determined to plan a visit.

 

Part 20

 

The three Aurelians were still a little buzzed by the previous evening’s function as they woke mid afternoon to a bedroom floor that attested a good time had by all. It was littered with their attire that was duly collected and placed in a ‘to be laundered’ pile after a single then dual then triple shower was taken. Still smiling Angel, Spike and Xander took a leisurely ‘breakfast’ then determined to address real life again.

There were tasks for each to do and Adrian’s PA lived up to her reputation for organization as she swiftly produced the phone messages and suggested the study for their use. 

Angel was the first to make his call, while Spike went online to ascertain what all the fuss might be about regards investments and Xander tried to work out the best dates for a visit prior to booking tickets online for his parents. 

The news from Angel Investigations was not as dire as the Grandsire suspected it might be. Just a few ‘tricky’ cases; a vision from Cordelia that included a vague image of a new Master vampire setting up a lair LA; then an expression of real concern (and some condemnation) that he might ‘be Angelus’ again given his rather uncharacteristically happy tone as he brushed off the requirement to return immediately and described the previous evening to the seer. In the end he reassured Cordelia that all was well and had Xander then Spike both reassuring her personally of his none Angelus status (the latter implying that there may have been shagging but all in good fun, for which he got a growl from Angel and light slap on the backside from Xander).

In the end it was settled. Angel would return to LA within the next few days, on the proviso that he was to keep safe and return to the familial home in England at least four times a year. Adrian’s PA committed to providing dates of significant social events and organize any other itinerary items deemed appropriate for the Grandsire to justify his future visits. 

Satisfied that his Grandsire would return frequently, Spike made the calls to his investment banks and various business advisors. Angel was not so much amazed by the process as the astute and competent way Spike dealt with the modern investment system. Twice during his time on the phone Spike had looked up to see his Grandsire smiling with pride in his direction. 

After the third ‘look’ he finished the conversation (in fluent French) hung up and spun his office chair to face the other vampire, “What?”

“Just impressed William. I always thought I was OK with money, but that was something else. Just glad I gave you the ‘keys to the castle’ I guess.”

Spike looked taken aback. “Well ’s your money too technically. Maybe you’d like an update occasionally since you’re all corporate ‘n ‘over the drink’. You can do it online you know – so long as you remember the bloody long password number for that Swiss mob – banker wankers! We should take a trip to Zurich next time you’re here and we can check out that safe deposit vault too – reckon there might be a few bits and pieces worth somethin’ from back in the day.” 

Spike winked at Angel – the older vampire trying to remember just how much might be there and winced as he remembered just *how* they had come by the various items. Selling some items via Sotheby’s as suggested by Spike seemed an option Angel was willing to entrust to his Childe *after* their visit to the bank vault in Switzerland in a month’s time

Spike saw the signs of a good ‘brood’ coming on, “C’mon ya ol’ wanker. Stuff’s that old no one remembers where it came from – and I reckon that applies to you too. But next time you’re here, let’s just do it for old time’s sake yeah? But in the mean time, I’ve sent Angel Investigations a bit of a shot in the arm ‘for services rendered’.”

“What do you...? How?”

“You really are behind the times aren’t you! Cordelia said business has suffered as you are not there, got your account number and just pushed through an extra Euro or two from the Aurelian profits to make sure ‘all’s well at mill’. Can’t have you or your pets on the streets can we? And according to that girl Friday o’ yours, she’s due a bonus, figured a bit of a fiscal boost might help with that.”

“Fiscal??”

“Means *financial*… money? How *do* you run a business is beyond me Sire!”

“I know what it means, just hadn’t heard you use that sort of language until now.”

“Well get used to it. And if you want some help with your books, I’m reasonable in that department these days – and if not me then Adrian.”

Spike was graced with a blinding smile that reflected pride and a little sadness from Angel, “Now what’s got yer knickers in a twist Sire?” It was enough and he was pulled into a full hug and kissed on the neck, over his claiming mark no end. It almost undid him, and the next words did it. His demon to the fore he shed three blood red tears following the, “I do love you William, always did, always will.”

Xander entered the room just as the two pulled apart, but sensing the nature of the distress withdrew and gave them their time together. He would speak to Spike later and they would discuss a possible trip to LA sometime in the future after Angel’s return and a visit to Switzerland to assess the ‘sale of some of the loot’. The reciprocal visit would be a gift of sorts, for Angel’s peace of mind that the deal went both ways re family. 

The discussion prior to Angel’s departure two days later included the impending visit of Xander’s parents, booked on a flight to England three months hence, so the timing for a return visit from Angel (all being well in LA) was set for six weeks away, and consequently a tentative date was also set for their venture to the continent.

Adrian, never one to be left out of the loop, was both enthusiastic and his apparently tireless PA (who had been given a week’s leave with pay following the triumph of the ‘welcome home party’) was more than able to make all the arrangements.

The parting of Xander and particularly Spike and Angel at Heathrow was as heart wrenching as it was reassuring.

“So we’ll see you on the 25th next month and head out with me Consort on the 27th to the ‘neutral state’ yeah? Don’t want to sell off anything you want to keep” Spike tried to smile but ended up bearing his neck in a private ‘amenities’ booth.

Angel took the gift gently but drank three full drafts, causing Spike to pale a little more before Xander stepped up also exposing his neck (on the other side of his claiming). Angel took two small sips of Xander’s familial blood before rather tearfully saying “Thank you… Thank you both. I will see you soon William, you know I will.”

“Bloody well better ya ol’ ponce! Several ladies expectin’ another round on the dance floor from ‘your highness’ at the next ball, and I don’t fancy Adrian’s ire if he’s sorted your room an’ you don’t front!”

Xander stifled a grin. It was perfect Spike, abrasive when at his most vulnerable, and to farewell his Grandsire now was painful, he let his own tiny fangs drop, opened his wrist and momentarily let Spike take a draft.

The three left the amenities as though nothing had transpired, but everything had changed. As they approached the entrance to the ‘passengers only’ door, Angel turned for a moment. 

Only vampire hearing could have picked up what was whispered, “You have made me so happy Will. I trust you with the Aurelian accounts, I canna make head nor tail of this new banking system as ye well know. But I will be back and we *will* together, with your Consort, rid ourselves of the spoils of evil. See you soon… And Will? I do so still love you… Family… You’ve gifted me with that again.”

And with that he walked through the door, leaving Xander to hug Spike chest to strong chest for a minute or two before they made their way to their awaiting limousine. 

………………

Spike had no desire to establish himself as High Master of the region of Southern England, however during the ensuing weeks was inundated with personal appeals from the Master of London, and Masters from the surrounding areas that he might take on that moniker and task.

His priority was to ‘settle’ and pleasure his Consort in all ways possible. The other Masters, and Adrian however, were persistent. The current ‘High Master’ was failing in his duties and there needed to be a ‘changing of the guard’.

Having a court meant turning more to his peaceful intent. Xander proved his strength as Consort and took many of the calls with a diplomacy that belied his rather ‘average’ Sunnydale education, rather his knowledge of the true Aurelian agenda.

After the thirtieth email, countless phone calls and appeals, Spike agreed to a meeting with all the Masters, including the rather young ‘High Master’ of the region who had learned of ‘William the Bloody’s return. 

There had to be a meeting and it was not going to be an easy one.

 

Part 21

The meeting was arranged for two days after Spike finally agreed, and was to be held in the ball room of their home. 

Angel was contacted and his arrival pushed forward four days so he too could be present. 

A temporary carpet was laid down and assortment of chairs from all over the mansion, plus some hired for the purpose, set up with a clear isle down the middle leading to a large table with three chairs behind a long table draped in a black with a gold embossed Aurelian ‘Arms’ (a huge ‘A’ with Angel’s griffin alongside with a railroad spike in its claws) in clear view at the front. It had not been on display since they were first in residence almost a hundred years previous.  
Angel’s arrival was low key this time. Collected from Heathrow around midnight, he was tired and forewent the usual niceties, politely asking Adrian’s PA where he might find William and Xander, before retiring. Most of the information needed for the following day’s meeting had already been emailed, but he did need to speak with his Childe as to any other details that could not be sent securely.

Spike and Xander were poring over some document in the study when Angel was announced by Adrian, who was also consequently ushered in to ensure his full knowledge of what was to conspire the following evening. 

Both Master and Consort offered their wrists in succession to the obviously ‘strung out’ Angel, and both were gratefully taken, though only a sip from each. Adrian busied himself while the family reunited by pouring a good ‘snifter’ of brandy for all in elegant glasses and at the appropriate moment took one for himself, then proffered the other three to the Aurelians before quietly taking a seat in the corner of the room.

The matters at hand were primarily focused on how to manage the territory *if* William the Bloody was to become High Master. In addition, Angel’s blessing as Spike’s Grandsire was essential. Any mention of souls or any other impediments were to be avoided, and the fact that Spike’s chip was apparently no longer an issue (or ever had been) also not to be spoken of. It was the Consort Alexander that many would be coming to see, and if challenged, needed to be ready.

At the suggestion of a challenge, Xander simply let his small fangs drop, and before even Spike could realize, had whipped out a hand whittled stake from his coat with his left hand, and had a silver dagger in the other, then said with a wicked grin, “No problems here. Bring it on!” 

The strong link between the three felt Xander’s nervous thrill at the thought of a fight and brought their demons to the fore also. Adrian almost inhaled his brandy at the sight, and unwittingly, his own demon emerged in its full glory. He quickly stood and released his tail, which flicked at the end as a large cat’s might prior to a kill.

Angel listened carefully and knew what might transpire on the night, but was also aware of the need for him to be present. William was an ‘old’ Master with a Consort, and despite Spike’s reluctance, Angel knew that having the full line present was critical for all to go well. He was reassured by Xander’s show of confidence and had no doubt that all would be well. He also enjoyed the prospect of ridding the Aurelian vault, post meeting, of contents he would rather not keep.

The influx of funds to his own enterprise in LA had indeed been a blessing, and he thanked the Powers and ‘whoever else’ for the astute business acumen of Spike and put in a plea that the following day was a success before retiring to bed and an exhausted sleep just before dawn.  
………….

The meeting began around an hour after sundown. Various Masters, Childer, and their minions (who generally stood to the side of the designated rows of chairs) filed in and sat with nervous intent, some not able to forego their true face. This was to be a momentous event and word had got out that the great Angelus, Grandsire, was also to be present.

Spike, Xander and Angel waited in the study until Adrian indicated all were seated, before making an entrance that had many of the younger Masters gasp. The three were all dressed in formal clothing with long black leather coats, claiming and turning marks clear for all to see. The ripple of power and age of the two vampires had the majority of the Masters in the crowd falling into game-face without intent. 

Adrian was in his element, letting his full demon to the fore as he announced the three to the gathered crowd. “Behold the Line of Aurelius, Angelus, his Grandchilde, William the Bloody, and Master William’s Consort, Alexander. You are all here for a single purpose as has been your repeated correspondence over the last month. That is to consolidate the Courts of Southern England under one capable High Master. This will not happen without appropriate petition and pledges of fealty. Does anyone at this meeting object to us proceeding?”

A dark figure draped (rather dramatically) in a hooded black cape and hood stepped from the back row, threw off his shroud and strode confidently down the centre aisle. “I object. *I* am the High Master of this region and directly challenge the line of Aurelius and the upstart William the Bloody, his *ensouled* Grandsire, and (he spat on the floor before continuing) the human Consort.”

Spike grabbed Xander’s arm as he felt his Consort ready for a fight, then remembered Spain. “Only if you want to Pet, he’s young but obviously dangerous.”

Xander gave Spike and then Angel a wicked grin, and said quietly, “Wouldn’t have it any other way, besides, it’s family. Let me take care of this, I know you’ll have my back if it’s needed.”

The cocky young Master vampire who had made the challenge grinned as it was Xander who stood, rounded the table and moved to meet the challenge. 

‘High Master’ Simon grinned in triumph, “I see you cannot fight your own battles and would rather let your Consort meet my challenge. How quaint.” He advanced closer with a swagger that indicated his confidence that the Consort would be no match.

Few in the room even saw the well thrown dagger that pierced the approaching vampire’s right thigh, though the pause by the High Master Simon was only momentary as he launched himself at the Consort’s neck, only to be met by a well placed stake drawn from Xander’s belt apparently effortlessly and with deadly accuracy. The end was swift and dusty, and Xander brushed himself off as he returned to his Master’s right hand side behind the table.

The room was deadly silent and many stared in wonder at the *human* who had just bested a most unpopular (yet most thought unbeatable) High Master.

Angel was the first to speak after the dust literally settled, “I take it that there are no other challengers? Minions of the former High Master will be dealt with anon as I see he underestimated all of you and particularly our Aurelian line.  
“Most of you here are at least fifty years my Childe’s junior and I congratulate you on establishing your Master status and ably managing your territory, and yes we are well aware of your grievances which will be addressed shortly. However, you also need to realize that swearing fealty to William the Bloody as High Master also means it is to our line and demands you will adhere to any dictates your new High Master invokes. I, as his Grandsire, endorse his position and will be present in Court regarding serious matters as required, though I have my own interests in the Colony of the USA.

“You have elected to petition my Grandchilde to be your High Master, an act I applaud. Now is your opportunity to stand and pledge your commitment to the new leader of the Southern English Court, William the Bloody and his Consort Alexander.”

All who were seated immediately stood and with all present simply announced as one, “All hail the new High Master of Southern England, we pledge our fealty and obedience to the House of Aurelius, William the Bloody, Consort Alexander, and to you Grandsire of the line, Angelus.”

The remainder of the meeting proceeded swiftly. Several of the Masters from various regions petitioned for a number of requests that had apparently been ignored by Spike’s predecessor. Spike was both gracious and attentive, while Adrian’s PA furiously took notes on her laptop for later review.

True to the Crent’ath’s and Aurelian hospitality (and with no small effort on Mavis Smith, her staff, and the slim yet most capable downstairs man, Leon) the Masters and all attending were ushered into a second room following proceedings and plied with all manner of drinks and (as appropriate) aperitifs. Angel, William, Alexander and Adrian all mingled with ease, quietly assessing each Master in the more casual setting and displaying a grace and presence that was not lost on any with whom they encountered. Consequently it was almost four in the morning before the last contingent (the London Master, his fledges and minions) toppled into their waiting limousine and departed.

Spike turned to Angel, with a wink to Xander and Adrian as the front door finally closed. “Well that seemed to go well Grandsire. Got a day to sort the bits and pieces for this Court rot, so you can rest up. We’ll leave for the continent for that visit as promised… And thank you… for coming here early for this, it made all the difference.”

Angel was rather stunned by the acknowledgement of his role and the gratitude from *his* William,  
“Thank you also, William, but I think much of the credit should also go to your Consort regards the outcome, and to Adrian Crent’ath for all the arrangements.” Angel then turned to the rather stunned Adrian, “Sir, I speak for the Aurelians present, we are both honored and grateful to you and your household for hosting such a momentous event with such apparent ease. I suspect William will wish to speak to you of extending our lease on the property in perpetuity, and assume you will be able to focus more on your own extensive business interests in our short absence.”

…………

Two days later, as the three Aurelians alighted a *private* jet, apparently the previous property of the High Master of Southern England, and manned by a number of *very happy* ex Childer. They had heard the details and both were excellent pilots. To assure their complete compliance Spike tore open his wrist and gave a little to both vampire pilots. The two hardly had time to recover before the Consort also offered his wrist – opened by his own small fangs.

Angel was also willing to contribute, but Spike stayed his move, indicating the left side broad lounge in the private plane, he and Xander took the opposing slightly longer couch, and all buckled in. 

It would only be an hour or so flight, and Adrian had made sure they were met and swiftly transported to a private *six* star hotel in Geneva, ironically one Angelus and William had favored in the day. Xander too recognized the venue though the memories were hazy. 

Calls were made immediately they entered their suite: to Adrian with a thank you; to A.I. L.A. to reassure Cordelia that all was well; to the Swiss bank they were to visit in the morning, it had already been arranged, but Spike had a Sire and Consort in tow. Consequently he left a rather curt message with the rather unfortunate overnight receptionist that they would need wake-up calls and transport the following evening.

 

Part 22

The late afternoon call was taken by Xander who had extracted himself from Spike’s strong embrace around two in the afternoon and had eaten some of the fruit platter provided, drank several cups of coffee then paced the luxury suite for a time before settling to watch a Formula One race on the oversized flat screen television.

He thanked the concierge, then strode into Spike and his shared bedroom, then Angel’s, turning the lights on and quietly, and insistently, demanding that both vampires wake and dress.

Angel rose immediately, but Spike was still luxuriating in the left over warmth of his partner. 

Xander’s open wrist, dribbling a small offering of blood, brought him to full awareness swiftly.

Ruffled blonde locks of hair and a growl led to, “Bloody hell, Pet! Do that and we’ll have to see to things afore I get up!”

Xander grinned down at his game-faced master and grinned unrepentantly, “Promises, promises. Come on we need to go do this. Bank apparently closes at five, and they’re staying around just for the Aurelians to arrive so hop to it. Shower, dress… I’ve been up for…” 

He didn’t get to finish the sentence, “Hours… I know Pet… and if that…” Spike looked pointedly at Xander’s erection tenting his elegant Armani suit pants, then to the rather obvious bump in the covers of their shared bed, “… is for me, well, p’rhaps we should just stay in.” Spike wiggled his eyebrow and gave his best ‘come hither’ look, only to find the covers pulled off with a flick of Xander’s hand, a furious kiss and the order, “Only after we do what we came to do… Now come on! Angel is no doubt fussing about his hair, time for a shower and dress. We can play later.”

Spike grumbled his way to the elaborate, modern bathroom to shower, “Bloody tease is what you are… an’ you better bloody well stick to the ‘play later’!”

A mere thirty minutes later, with Angel and Spike both having bathed, dressed and consumed a couple of perfect temperature bags of A-pos, the three were alighting a large black Mercedes and on their way to the bank.

They were met at the door of the headquarters of Credit Suisse bank on Paradeplatz in Zurich. An impressive old façade, though they were swiftly led to a modern private office by a rather young looking, though obviously, senior banker. 

Rather than leading them to sit at the large mahogany desk in the corner, he ushered them to the far more comfortable leather lounge chairs, and settled himself opposite, laptop on the low table. 

The Banker addressed them in perfect French, something Xander was not expecting, as he knew Spike’s German, and Spanish and … well just too many languages to count – both human and demon, were just as good.

Spike winked at Xander then leaned over and whispered, “Sire’s OK with French – bloody Micks – banker’s no doubt been briefed.” winked and then added conspiratorially, “Thank goodness for an Oxford university education then 100+ years hey Pet. Can hold my own in a bunch of tongues… just wait ‘til we finish and promise to smile… Me ol’ Sire will be left wondering a little, and I know you could hold your own too back in the day.” The wicked smile left Xander in no doubt it was Spike’s intention to have a little fun with his Sire and see Xander’s sojourn in limbo had stripped him of his ability to understand the discussion. As soon as it started he realized it hadn’t.

‘Back in the day’, they had made many visits to Paris, and William had been a *good* tutor, spending many patient hours teaching his Pet then Consort to speak the language. Lessons done well rewarded in the most wonderfully wicked, and horizontal of ways. 

Xander flashed Spike a grin of pure admiration. He was in his element again and though Spike would still let his Sire take the lead, Xander knew it was Spike who would end up finalizing any transactions so he politely sat and waited for the rest of the visit to transpire.

The banker settled, smiled then introduced himself, “Bonsoir Messieurs. Je suis Jean-Paul Ettreci, votre conseiller traditionnel de compte dans des investissements à long terme, et vous aiderai de quelque façon que je peux.” (Sirs, good evening. I am Jean-Paul Ettreci, your traditional account adviser in long-term investments, and will help you in any way which I can.) 

Jean- Paul sat opposite the three very handsome men and wondered at their youth and obvious wealth. His CEO had been most adamant that they be treated with the utmost care and discretion. 

Looking at the three now, he surmised they were some kind of royalty or at the very least, ‘Old money’? He decided on casual but respectful so as they settled, quietly expressed, “Est-ce que je peux t'offrir une boisson avant que nous commencions ? Café peut-être?” (May I offer you a drink before we start? Coffee perhaps?)

Angel looked across to Spike and Xander – who had moved their chairs a little closer to each other and were holding hands. “Merci non, Nous seulement ont juste diné. Mais peut-être l'eau serait appréciée.” (Thank you no. We have only just dined. But perhaps water would be appreciated?)

Jean-Paul what appeared as an old fashioned brass button on the wall, then spoke into the modern communicator, and in less than thirty seconds a silver tray with iced water and four elegant crystal glasses were silently delivered to the central table and served within reaching distance. All took a sip of their water and relaxed a little, before Angel eyed Monsieur Ettreci with intent.

“Et, bonsoir à vous M. Ettreci. Votre banque est la plus généreuse de votre banque pour nous permettre cette visite tellement en retard. Nous apprécions tout votre service à notre famille pendant les nombreuses années où nous avons investies avec vous. Je suis Angelus Aurelius. C'est William Aurelius, et son associé, Alexandre.” …(“And, good evening to you Mr Ettreci. Your bank was most generous of your bank to allow us this visit so late. We appreciate all your service to our family during the many years we have invested with you. I am Angelus Aurelius. This is William Aurelius, and his partner, Alexandre.”) 

Angel toasted the banker with his glass of water then announced, “Nous souhaitons accéder à notre chambre forte cette soirée, car nous avons l' intention de vendre une partie du contenu et de la réinvestir. Elle sera à votre banque naturellement. Je demanderais à William pour continuer des négociations car il a été un excellent directeur de nos investissements pendant beaucoup d'années.” …(“We wish to access our safe deposit vault this evening, as we have l' intention to sell part of the contents and to reinvest it. It will be at your bank naturally. I would ask William to continue negotiations as he has been an excellent manager of our investments for many years.”) 

Angel looked to Spike at this point, who merely nodded and gave a blinding, azure eyed smile to the almost stunned banker – who definitely decided on royalty and old money combined.

Angel leaned across and whispered to Spike, “This one is yours to manage now.”

“Has been for years now, Sire.”

“I know. So… let’s just do this.”

Spike smiled at the banker and recited the fifteen digit code without hesitation, the eight digit ‘additional’ number and then answered two further security questions while Monsieur Ettreci typed furiously.

Monsieur Ettreci then checked his laptop, smiled and immediately arose from his place on the comfortable lounge chairs, tapped in a code on the keypad beside a very lovely original Monet painting on the wall above the inoperative, ornate fireplace. The painting swung open revealing a hidden safe, typed in a code, and as the secure place opened, proceeded to seek the key that would open their vault.

“Messieurs, si vous me suivrez…” (Gentlemen, if you will follow me...)

Xander was left to wonder at the ‘many years’ part of Spike’s management of funds while he was ‘away’. If so, why had he been in such a desperate state in Sunnydale when he had arrived back? Scrounging for money by doing the slayer and ex Watcher favors? Living in a crypt from what he could gather, when he could have just accessed the money and run? And how had Angel afforded to own the Hyperion, if not by accessing the accounts? They were all questions that he needed answers for, but stayed quiet as they walked three abreast down a long wide, ornately adorned corridor, turning right before following the banker down another. Spike quietly taking Xander’s hand and squeezed, a little concerned at the quiet and the rather worried expression on his Consort’s face.

They stopped a few meters from an enormous metal door with no apparent handle. 

Monsieur Ettreci, keyed in yet another code then placed his eye over a small camera, a mere second later the door swung silently open, lights turned on automatically revealing a long line around sixty identical floor to ceiling doors each with its own keypad and led them to one second to the end on the left of the corridor.

Monsieur Ettreci, smiled nodded then retreated, simply stating, “Vous pouvez prendre du temps, pour autant que vous souhaitez. Quand vous avez accompli, simplement la presse sur le bouton bleu sur l'intérieur de la porte principale de la chambre forte et de moi sera présente immédiatement.” (You can take time, in so far as you wish. When you have completed, simply press on the blue button on the interior of the principal door of the vault and I will be present immediately.)

Spike stepped forward, keyed in the eight digit ‘additional number’ and the door swung open, and like before the lights came on immediately. The vault was at least 5m by 10m and the ceiling as high as the ballroom at their home in Surrey. 

All three stood for a moment, rather stunned before Spike broke the silence, “Bloody Hell… never thought I’d see all this lot again… and certainly not like this. Reckon I had been too crazed to be this organized back then.” He shrugged, squeezed Xander’s hand a little tighter and looked toward Angel who simply retorted, “You were always one for order William, even if you denied it.”

Spike huffed at the comment but returned Angel’s smile and commented under his breath, “Yeah well, a bloke’s got ‘is pride.”

There were paintings of all sizes in purpose made holders as per gallery storage; small bronze and porcelain statuettes and random objects (obviously of value) neatly positioned on several shelves; boxes and old fashioned chests stacked high on well arranged shelves. A number of pieces of expensive antique furniture were placed at the rear, all carefully covered, and where possible, also stacked high.

The fading labels on the boxes and chests indicated their contents - almost. “Precious books”; “jewelry – various”; “crystal – various”; “gems and all sorts”; and then there were other labels more intriguing. “Demon gains”; “Russia”; “Post 1945”; and so it went on. 

Xander wondered where on earth it all came from, but not only that… where were they to start, and how would they sell the pieces chosen… legitimately! His attention was immediately drawn to Spike who strode across to two old fashioned, dark mahogany, four tiered filing cabinets set side by side.

“Right Sire, what’s first? Not gettin’ rid of everything, but it’s your call on the paintings, do fancy a few hanging in the Surrey house, but some will have to go. Most have papers of authenticity in here, others will need to be valued ”

Angel immediately fell into game face and mumbled around his fangs, “Spoils of War first, then we can decide on the other.”

………………..

Spike had returned to Europe after his brief sojourn under the sea at the hands of the Nazis and being pushed from the submarine by his traitor of a Grandsire, seeking out and finding his dark plumb with all the determination and abilities of a vampire at his best. 

He found Drusilla in Italy, ensconced in a former nunnery and protected by the local vampire master, Mistress Lucia, in Pisa, as the country at war (on the losing side apparently) was in meltdown, late 1944. Reclaiming her, he had paid Mistress Lucia in fresh blood and a number of ‘baubles’ for her trouble, then dragged Dru into the melee that was the end of the war. The ‘pickings’ were easy, and the dying on various battlefields lying in the dark, generally grateful and submitting willingly to a swift death.

He had tracked down several of the senior German officers who had been the cause of his brief, though eventful, stay under the sea at their behest, killed them easily and ‘requisitioned’ their stash of stolen treasures. 

Crossing borders was easy enough, all German occupied, and having no papers simply meant an evening feast for Spike and his paramour, as he drove a stolen baker’s van full of the loot to Switzerland.

 

As he entered the vault, he had been somewhat surprised at the time that the vault was so full, but didn’t question the welcome additions, not realizing that Angel too had returned to Europe briefly, via a second forced mission courtesy of the US forces.  
………………………….

Angel had fulfilled what was expected without effort, parachuting to the ground in the middle of the night, only to find that the experimental laboratories focusing on vampires and other demons had already been destroyed by the bombings in Berlin. Though he reported all were dead to his ‘bosses’ in covert operations, he had managed to rescue a number of the demons still trapped and then apparently disappeared off his ‘boss’s’ dial. 

After a number of attempts to contact him, and with the Pacific on their dial, they assumed he was dust in the wind, giving it no more than a passing note on his file. Nobody would miss a non-person. 

Like Spike, Angel found it was easy move about amid the confusion that was the end of WWII, when all around him were either fighting or fleeing, so along with a number of his sun-allergic charges, took what they could in blood and in possessions from the perpetrators of the horror. 

His soul justified the elimination of a number of high ranked officers, either by his hand or his ‘colleagues for now’ easy. Killing for food or sport was one thing his demon agreed with, but to do it for no better reason than genocide and the requisitioning of the riches of the Jewish community, his soul found beyond deplorable. 

Gradually their little group of rescued demons had dispersed and despite his soul, or perhaps because of it, Angel deliberately charmed his way into a number of remaining rich Nazi loyal houses across Europe, either eliminating the perpetrators of the horror, or anonymously placing them ‘in harm’s way’ as the Allies swept to victory.

Consequently, Angel too, had driven to Switzerland and deposited a significant quantity of the German ruling classes’ stolen items in the Aurelian vault, before accessing some of said General’s and Colonel’s own hidden, ill begotten treasures kept at the very same bank courtesy of one of his rescued demon’s ability to thrall.

The young, rescued vampire, Mishka was thrilled. He had been rescued by the great Angelus and so was more than happy to oblige his services when it came to retrieving the spoils of war, and was richly rewarded as a consequence. His intention to return to Hungary after the war met with a smile and a grand gesture (a bite to the neck) by the legendary Angelus (soul not an issue as far as he was concerned). Therefore two vaults on the left were designated as his. Its owner dead, there was more than enough to fund the foundation of Mishka’s court upon his return (once the human fighting had diminished to nothing. He was fifty years turned, and as Angelus pointed out at the time… He had the time to wait out the outcome and access it all later.

They had parted company at that point, Angel returning to the USA, Miscka to his beloved Hungary… never to be heard of again… apparently. Circa 1946.  
………….…………….. 

Spike identified the items according to the itinerary in the cabinet and the dates so carefully itemized, then watched, in sadness for all they had won and lost, causing his Grandsire to back up to the vault opening and slide down the wall.

Spike looked over with concern

Spike turned to Angel with a flash of yellow hinting his demon was more than a little incensed. “You were here too? You bloody bastard! Why didn’t you stay? I mean Dru ‘n me…” He wasn’t allowed to finish.

“I was *ensouled* Spike. I just couldn’t… couldn’t admit what I had done *again* and…” Angel stared at his shoes for a moment, “I so needed to… just get back to…”

“You really are a prize wanker *Sire*… could’ve tracked Dru ‘n me ‘n spent the fifties like we did – on the ‘A list’ for humans and demons alike. More parties ‘n I can count and not too many bodies – blood given willingly, ‘though must admit Dru needed someone to watch her. Nearly bloody well drained one of our human hosts (not that he minded at the time apparently!) But you could have stayed…”

Xander sensed his partner’s angst and held tight to the hand then gave him a soft, gentle kiss on his turning mark, mumbling, “Let’s leave the past, just let’s let it all go and do what we have to do.”

Angel stood reluctantly and was careful to identify the misbegotten treasures in the vault on the right and took what he felt was suitable for sale. He knew the heritage, the angst at the time, protesting that if some of the families should have them returned if any of said offspring/survivors still existed, vowing to do the same. And if not, at least he could respect the dead by keeping their precious possessions within Aurleian care. It was as though a moment ago in Spike and Angel’s lives. So stark, and confronting, and the older vampire moved to the front of the vault and slid down the wall once more.

Spike raised an eyebrow, but nodded in agreement. It would take some time to track down said relatives, but his sense of ‘right’ was as strong as his Grandsire's.

“So we take what we know are from them’s what are dead ‘n gone then we track down the families for the other. That OK with you Sire?”

Angel nodded from his position on the floor, then stood with fluid grace and began to sort through the paintings, while Spike sorted through the files – particularly focusing on families who had been ‘wiped out’ in the ‘ethnic cleansing that was the Third Reich.

……………. 

Angel had returned to the USA by boat with the first wave of refugees fleeing the war ravaged continent just after 1945, not penniless, and certainly in a position to survive for some time on the healthy sum he took from the Aurelian account at the Credit Suisse. But at the same time, felt his Grand-Childe’s pain and knew he could do nothing. So simply left, again without contact. 

………………………

There was little for Xander to do but to sort through to drawers (and drawers) of precious gems and jewelry that was part of the contents of the security vault. Once he had sorted through various unset jewels, he began to refer to Spike again. “This one is…”, only to find that the majority were now without owners to return said treasures to, but occasionally Spike was able to ask him to put them aside. Xander never happier for the internet link on his phone that allowed Spike to track down survivors, and not in a moment missing that the two vampires had souls, and consciences that compelled them to return ill begotten goods.

In the end they had a trolley load of artifacts and jewels that they were happy to auction, and some that would adorn their home(s), mostly pre WWI. Plus at least forty names to track down, survivors of the WWII Nazi purges, that all the Aurelians all vowed would have precious heirlooms returned to the existing families if possible.

Yet what remained in the vault was still a veritable treasure trove, and as the vault closed, Xander was the one to point out, “We could have sold the lot.”

Spike sent a pointed look to his Grandsire then sighed, “’M now the High Master of the South East, Pet. Who knows when we might have a need for it sometime in the future. ‘N if not, then it’s the Grandsire and our ‘retirement fund’... And us vampires (‘n consorts) we tend to last a long while...

Xander let his gaze wander to the now secured door and the approach of their attentive banker, and simply stated, “With your management of accounts and investments, I figure that will be a dark day in Hell we’ll ever need it.”

Spike smirked a little, preened himself at the compliment and turned to Angel. “You OK with all this now?”

Angel’s reply was simple and genuine, “Always trusted you William, even in the bad days, and always will. Let’s go home, rid ourselves of the cursed lot, return what we can and decorate that house of ours in the style of… ”

Spike turned azure eyes sparkling, and intoned, “…St Petersburg! Thought it was odd with some of your choices. I always thought you had forgotten? Especially after Xan…” Spike trailed off as he pushed the door closed only to find Angel in full game face, holding him tight from behind and scraping fangs over Spike’s original turning mark. Xander smiled a little, the act did not threaten him in the least, rather he felt the joy flooding from Spike, his William, through the consort link. Something had occurred in St Petersburg between Angelus and William… yet another question for another day. 

Instead of interrupting the moment he simply pushed the blue button just outside their vault and summoned Monsieur Ettreci – who seemed to appear instantaneously with a number of assistants to relieve Xander of the task of pushing the trolley of goods they had decided upon from the vault. 

 

PART 23

Spike had been ensconced in Monsier Ettreci’s office for at least an hour.  
After they returned to the main part of the bank building, Angel forewent any attempt to be involved in disposing of their ‘curs-ed possessions’ by giving a knowing look, slight smile, and nod to Spike. He had then taken Xander’s arm, whispered, “This is Spike’s to do, I trust him. Perhaps it’s best we return to the hotel”, after which he lead the Consort to the waiting limousine, instructing the driver to deliver them home and return for Spike as promptly as possible. 

 

Late morning the three Aurelians reunited at the door of their suite, Spike with a knowing grin on his face.

“What you great ponce?” 

The words belied the affection and Xander grinned at him from behind the stony-faced Aurelian Grandsire. 

“Did as we agreed, auction’s on the morrow, done deal. Sotherby’s ain’t the only ones as can turn a bloke a profit! ‘Specially with notes of authenticity… oh bugger it all, put the game face away Sire! Ettreci reckons seventy to eighty million for the lot… Pounds Sterling by the way – none of that Euro rubbish. Already has buyers for the stones, so that’s at least twelve in the bag accounted for. The art he’s pretty sure will sell to private collections, avoid that rubbish of an auction and whatnot. So only things under the hammer are some of the antiques.”

Xander gasped, whispered, “Ghod I never realized… that much??”, then stared at his partner and appreciated once more, the business acumen of the man/vampire he was Consort to. At the same time old memories warred with the current, and he smiled, knowing exactly who Spike really was, who had kept the Aurelian fortunes at pace with modernity, who had funded Angelus’s follies in the past, and who had kept the Aurelian vampires (and household) in the manner to which they preferred.

Grandsire and Childe were both still asleep when the courtesy call came from the concierge. Xander thanked the kind gent in rather heavily accented (but his best) French, ordered breakfast and wandered into the kitchenette to heat two large mugs of O+ for his partner and their Grandsire. 

The warm mugs were delivered with a kiss to both vampires, for Spike, on the lips, and for Angel, on the wrist. He smiled as Angel untangled himself from Spike’s limpet-like grasp, whispering conspiratorially, “I know, he always did love a good cuddle.” Angel had the decency to look a little abashed then gave a genuine smile… “And don’t I know it… I’m so glad you are back, Xander, Alex. I still can’t believe this is all true. You. Him. Family… Even after all these months I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Angel took a sip of his blood and they both grinned as a certain blonde chose the moment to roll over with a grunt before burying his head under the pillow with mumbles of “Bloody hell… Leave a bloke to sleep you lot!”

Xander grinned, sipped his coffee and simply said, “I had no control over what happened, neither did you, but now we do have a life… OK an unlife or a plus-life, and I’m really glad you can be part of it. He deserves that.” 

Xander nodded toward the again sleeping undead on the bed with a smile before having the decency to look a little abashed at the last blurted out statement of truth, before Angel grabbed his hand with preternatural speed and stared into the matching dark eyes with an unusually warm smile that made the senior Aurelian look his twenty something original self. “I am glad too… More than you can ever know. And thank *you* Alexander. You *are*, were, always loved and wanted, and I could wish no one else but you for my dear Grandchilde, or for our line.”

Angel paused for a moment, drained the rest of his breakfast, then grinned conspiratorially and changed to gameface hissing, “He’s *very* ticklish…” 

What ensued was a rather wild flurry of sheets, swear words that would ‘make a sailor blush’ and a general free for all tussle on the floor with accompanying gleeful giggles as an incensed (and unceremoniously woken) Spike finally shook the shock of his awakening and got the upper hand.

Stilling for a moment, Xander and co-conspirator Angel (now pinned under a game-faced, annoyed looking, nude and adorably disheveled blonde) couldn’t help it. They shared a look, then burst out laughing again, all the tension, the memories, the angst, and the worry of the last days, and well… forever, evaporating with the moment of sheer… fun.

“Right that’s it! You lot have officially gone daft! A bloke can’t even have a decent kip without…”  
At Spike’s exasperated look, Xander and Angel, now both lying on the floor limbs akimbo, simply began giggling again. Spike stood, slapping both silly relatives for good measure, before stomping back to retrieve his now cooling mug of ‘red’ from the side table. It was only the quiet knock at the door and a nervous “Room service for Alex Aurelius” that pulled them all back to something of control.

Xander coughed a last little laugh from his tone, yelled, “Coming… Hang on, just…” and hurriedly threw on the hotel provided long white robe as he made for the door of their suite. 

The pretty young woman, Isabella according to her name tag, delivered freshly made pancakes, juice and coffee and was flattered by the beautiful smile of the man with long shaggy near black hair and a happy (if a little stilted) greeting in french.

She blushed profusely and lowered her eyes as two other similarly clad, stunning men entered the room. She focused on setting about placing the table as instructed by her insistent boss. The Aurelians were apparently *very special* guests at the hotel. One of her coworkers had whispered ‘f#@ing royalty… pretty rich boys… watch yourself’ as she had set off on her duty. 

Now she had no doubt, either of her safety, or their status, as Xander pushed a more than generous tip into her right hand then lifted it to kiss the back and gave her a wink… *she* felt like the princess in the room and departed to ‘float’ downstairs to the kitchen. Her fellow workers were more than a little too keen to know what had happened. She smiled shyly, pushed the 100Euro note into her side pocket and assured them that the three were *wonderful*, *generous* and *definitely* royalty. 

Their final day and a half in Switzerland were… blissful. They took in a ballet, wandered amidst the rich and famous and Spike was privy to his Grandsire smiling too often to be real, not since St Petersburg had he seen Angel so in his element, and indeed, when they visited a modern art gallery in the last few hours of their visit, had he seen him so happy (but not *too* happy) On the second last night, then (to Xander’s embarrassment and joy) were invited to a solstice ball which initially Spike declined, but, checked out, bags packed and already delivered to the airport, they graced the Swiss Master’s court with their presence. The first time since coming to Switzerland that they were able to reveal their true identities.

They were dressed for the occasion in fashionable, understated European chic as to Angel *not* Spike’s taste, but it worked apparently. They waltzed a number of ladies around the floor, finally giving in to a wonderful polka that (and to Xander’s amazement as he was always Mr two left feet) all were able to endear themselves to all present. Shortly after, they took their leave of the High Master with promises of returning in spring. It was enough.

They alighted at Heathrow, the private jet refueling to return Sire to LA. A nighttime journey a given, but promises to return for the Christmas solstice also made.

The car was waiting, blood was exchanged and a rather tearful farewell saw Xander with head dipped and neck exposed, giving to his lover on the way home.

…………

Adrian was again in his element. 

It was Christmas, a human celebration, but so *much* fun! And there was to be a Ball on the eve… and the Masters were as excited as he. 

The household (and the whole of the Southern England Court) had benefitted from Spike’s sound leadership, with a few disgruntled complaints re their ‘books’ being reviewed, nonetheless the Ball was a one come one come all event. A masked ball! Adrian could not be happier, nor his PA more distressed.

In the months following their return from Switzerland, Spike had divested himself of all the luxury cars so prized by the former Master, signing them over to all the Masters of the region, other than the Bugatti, they had never taken it to its limits, but it didn’t matter. It was luxury embodied and a small part of Xander couldn’t help but smile every time the car fired up… the sound of so much power making him groan just as every time his Master Vampire ‘fired up’.

So it was Christmas and just as the party began, Adrian silenced the orchestra to announce, “Master, Consort Xander, please welcome Angelus, and his seer Cordelia.”

Xander’s breath hitched and Spike grabbed his hand then smiled, as planned Sire had come – the perfect Christmas present.

Cordelia was amazing in an original Jean Paul Gaultie dress that simply flowed with every movement. She smiled, curtsied gracefully in front of the High Master Spike, and winked conspiratorially at Xander with a mouthed “Talk later buddy!”

Xander relaxed back and let a little tear fall as the Grandsire danced the now Master of Southern England around the floor to a lively polka with obvious joy 

Cordelia took his hand and curtseyed with a definite glint in her eye, “C’mon mister, we’ll out polka them and then swap partners! Both need their Christmas to be perfect after all… And by the way… Yeah you… and you know who…And thanks for the extra cash.” She looked down at her dress and gave Xander a blinding smile. “Yup, could get used to this, and he really is…happy.” 

Xander pulled her around into a spin then pushed her hand to his lips obviously staring at Spike, “So am I.” 

He barely heard the “Happy holidays” message from his dance partner as his Master, his all blew a kiss across the room, just for him.

In that moment he knew they had all the love and the time in the world, but that it would also, be never time enough.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Though yet to be finished - it will be... in the future.
> 
> Encouragement of the muse is helpful - please let me know if continuation is warranted sooner rather than later


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